Lost from the dream world
by Shaded
Summary: You've read many of the 'gone back in time' fanfics but you've never seen anything like this. With a wellplotted storyline and good writing! Rating for graphic and disturbing violence also some innuendo
1. Prologue

Prologue...

With a flash of colours and vague voices she found herself amid a bustling crowd of people. Close observation proved that she had been moved to another time. The short frame of the girl, standing alertly through the dust and swirl of dozens of others, clearly in a sort of public market, observed the people around her for yet another moment before closing her eyes, her face clearing in studied concentration. Yet another moment passed, the girl opened her eyes her face a mask of alarm, once again her lids shut over steel-gray eyes, the concentration resumed. This time the affect was dramatic, without a word the girl whirled furiously examining her surroundings closer, with more scrutiny. With a sudden jolt the girl gasped, the usual mist around the edges of her vision was gone, she found she could change nothing, not herself, not the people around her, not her surroundings. The girl fought down a surge of panic that rose wildly from within her. Something had changed, changed or gone wrong. She was no longer within the dream world that she had closed her eyes to.


	2. 1 Niera

1 - Niera

A lone figure stood braced against the billowing winds that now swept small patches of sand to and fro, sand that stretched onwards till it met up with the everchanging hue of the ocean a good mile ahead.

The figure was small, with a deep stocky build, well muscled arms and legs stood out in a lean though rounded body.

Niera pushed one hand forward to chase away the locks of dark curls that sprang annoyingly into her sight. Her steel-gray eyes, almost matching the colour of the ocean ahead, flickered restlessly, moving over the horizon to scan the beaches below the high dune she was perched upon.

Various thoughts were suspended motionless in her mind. For the moment she was bottling everything out, just seeing anything else around her, blocking out any mental processing, open only to feeling. One thought pushed it's way determinedly forward, intent upon Niera's attention. It's contents bringing a worried sort of frown to Niera's high boned face.

It would be so easy to forget, to forget who she really was, where she had come from. It had been over a year since Niera had stepped from her dream world into the very-much-real world some two-thousand-nine-hundred years in, what Niera thought, the past.

Why had it been Troy? Why this time? Those questions still probed and pushed, refusing to be ignored, but now... Now they were fading, somewhat. Niera was startled to find how easily the memories from her past life were pushed into a black and white existence, they were still there, true but... Once again Niera's face clouded over. Everything had happened so fast, for the first few months she had been convinced she was still dreaming in some bizarre way, but now...

No, there could be no questioning the acute 'realness' of her life now, her surroundings. How odd it was that she should come back now, exactly upon the brink of what she knew to be The Trojan War.


	3. 2 Troy

2 - Troy

A lone laugh rang out from the dusty street corner as two small children ran past, pushing and shoving at each other playfully, Niera rose from where she had been crouched up against the stone wall, arching her back as she stretched her limbs from their recent cramped position. Life was so different here, everything had changed. There would have been major complications to her arrival here she would have thought, but no, Niera's speech was completely understandable to those around her, to the natives of this land, she sounded different from them, there was a certain inflection to her words that was not in the others but the important thing was that she could understand them in return.

While everything had changed from the very culture around her she found with a sense of familiarity that humans were in fact the same, they had not changed, they still could be greedy, kind, cowering, arrogant... Niera found all those characteristics still there and it was oddly enough comforting to her, if she had been dropped among alien people that she could not relate too... Niera closed her eyes briefly, a tremour passing through her body. She was still mastering the panicy fear that seized ahold of her at times, the fear that whispered that she would be forever lost in this world, that she was helpless in the events that would take place.

It had been only several months after her arrival that she heard rumours, the gossip that Prince Paris had returned, and had scandoulously abducted a Spartan king's wife. There were no details included but that was all that was needed to tell Niera she had come to a turning point in history. Since that time she had been dredging up all memory and recollation of the Trojan War and any time period close to it. Niera was more a brain-child that anything else, she had read extensively, oddly and fortunately enough into the works of Homer which depicted the Trojan War. That in itself did not trouble her, but... A single disturbing thought had crossed her mind. What if Homer had not been so accurate as historians would have thought. What if there were events and happenings she could not possibly know about and therefore endangering her position in the war. The fact that she was within the walls of Troy, and therefore part of it if war came, was alone a frightening.

She could not tell how much time it would be before the black ships of the Acheans reached Troy's shores.

All these thoughts had whirled endlessly in Niera's head, causing many a time a troubled expression to cross her face. So far the odds had been against her since arriving from the dream world, the improbability of that matter (the dream world) itself Niera had not even tried to fathom. She was young but she had realised be-latedly that she was not quite so young as she might have supposed, the Trojan culture and that of the mediterraen world put age in higher standerds than did modern times. Her fifteen years would be treated as one pratically an adult, except in pampered high-born families. Another odd against her, her sex, Niera had read enough to know that females were treated with a sense of under-dog from males, at least outwardly, but she had never really imagined it.

Even the very slight sexists she had been exposed to in the modern world had enraged her, now... Niera shook her head ruefully, she would have to learn to be in better control of herself. A rather unfortunate inn-keeper, when asked for work, had looked at her boggle-eyed after making several sexist observations on her gender which had, at the time, so infuriated Niera that she had lost her temper all-together, lashing out with a few well-chosen curses and all-together degrading language. It seemed, interesting enough Niera had observed when she had time to think about it, that the bad language today was still held in the same light as to it's meaning.

That incident had only furthered her caution in approaching the mannerisms of ancient culture. There were times, at night usually, when she realised the how unreal her situation was, but it was so real, a scratch on her hand bled, a collision with another still caused bruises, life was life... just so different. After the first several days Niera had recovered from the numbing shock that had overcome her, realising with effort that she could no longer tell herself it was a dream. That fact had not thoroughly come across until months later.

Shaking her head quickly Niera touched one hand to her stomuch which had shrunken somewhat since her arrival, food had to be gotten. It had taken quite a while before Niera had realised that work for females was not open, it had taken another period of time before she had found out about the beaches and the fishing industry. Niera had always been shy in public, she never had gone, voluntarily, into stores and other public places without someone with her, she always felt uncomfortable, feeling closed in. Continued exposure to people around her every moment, Troy was the center of industry in the medditeraen, had made her bolder, bold enough to approach an old man, a fisherman and ask for work.

Her first words had earned her a wide-eyed expression, much like she had gotten from the inn-keeper, but without the infuriating comments. There had been a long pause and abit of shameless urging on her part before the fisherman had almost grudging granted her work, mending nets precisely, the job was unfamiliar to Niera and she had never so much as picked up a needle in her life-time but with impatient pointers from the old-man she managed to get along well enough. Several days of the work resulted in rising blisters which later hardened into callouses in places Niera had never before exposed to work. She had worked well enough to be fed by the old-man's wife, who had treated her from the start like some ignorant foriegner, as Niera supposed later with a grin, she was.

Since then her life had settled into a disturbed pattern, when she was hungry she went down to the beaches to mend the everlasting pile of rent nets that was always available, the remainder of her time was spent wandering through the city, by now she had gone through most all of it she could, the higher section towards the center were barred to the common-folk as she realised with a jolt she was unless she could put-on otherwise, not likely in her loose-jeans and baggy T-shirt that had also earned her some intereseted stares. Women, she supposed rightly, did not just dress like that.

She had gone out of the city many times usually to gaze to the horizon that some day soon she knew would turn black with the oncoming sails of the Acheans ships. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- On a first note I'd like to put in that I'm following TROY (the movies) timeline, I'm not going through the ten years that Homer gives us. Mostly because that makes way to long a fanfic and you'd all be falling asleep by then, either that or dead of old age. Second note: Review! Give me anything, your critisism is also yearned for, unless of course it's just stupid, critisism is the key to writing better. Third Note: Give me good suggestions and I'll follow them, I'm making up the story as I go along and I want to make it fit together nicely. Peaches and Creme02 : Thank you for the encourgement! It's always great to know the story is going well Mel0Yel0#03 : I'll follow your suggestions and in the next chapter I'm looking more into my character, I want it to unfold bit by bit Queen Arwen : Thank you! I do love detail and I am looking forward to the other characters sweetypie15 : Glad to know the storyline looks to be going somewhere!


	4. 3 They come!

4 - They come!

Niera pushed her way skillfully through the thickening crowd. Not so long ago the closeness and crowding of the bodies around her would have made her nearly sick, but now... Niera let out a husky chuckle, she was quite used to it now. Niera was headed for the beaches, where else, her stomach was no protesting quite heartily for food, the decent type, not the type scrounged from whatever the street waifs left, which was usually nothing. Still threading delicately through the growing mass of people, Niera took a brief moment to appreciate the variety of nations that traded with the Trojans. Foreigners from all over the Mediterranean, Asia, Africa, and even perhaps Europe could be spotted amongst the haggling, shouting wares-men. With a silent breath of thanks Niera was once again grateful for the fact that she did not have to find work here, it wasn't so bad on the beaches, despite the fermenting smell of fish that she had really grown used to. Smiling despite herself and feeling her mood lift with the sun as it rose towards mid-sky she picked up her walk to a fast lope, now able in the thinned ranks, heading out of Troy's massive gates, every bit and more impressive as she would have imagined them, she turned and walking backwards observed where that eventful night's dreaming had dropped her.

Troy was massive. That was just the word that described it, whether talking of it's walls, it's center, it's houses, it's industry, Troy itself was massive. It's well-famed walls rose to towering heights, smooth and limestone making it impossible to scale. A ladder would have to be of immense length to even come close to reaching the top, even then the numerous defenders atop would send the ladder, and whoever it carried, crashing down to certain death. Niera shook her head wonderingly, Troy was a work of craftsmanship, hand hewed without mechanical power. Niera taking one last glance at the magnificent city which she knew, or hoped she knew judging that Homer's depicting was correct, was doomed to a fiery ruin, turned her back and continued her trot down to where various small fishing crafts were pulled up away from the surf, their owners busily hauling out fish whose scales caught the sun sending silvery flashes here and there.

As if happened Niera was one of the first to spot the menacing sails as they first appeared on the horizon. She had been mending the usual nets, her head bent studiously over the mangled ropes wherein was intwined the entrails of past victims, her mid-back length hair loose and whipping once more iratantly about her face, when a sudden alarmed shout rang out over the beaches. Niera, without looking up closed her eyes briefly knowing what lay on the waters stretching out in front of her, knowing how many deaths those crafts brought with them, knowing how it all would end.. Or at least she thought she knew. She could not be certain. It took only a few moments for alarm bells to sound out, clanging desperately, their cry of woe bringing the fishermen oaring in the water and without bothering their boats, leaping out and running with such fleetness that Niera would have laughed had she not known the situation she was in.

As it was Niera stayed where she was for a long moment, the enlarge needle specially made for the mending the torn nets, still in her hand. Finally rising and setting her work aside on the sand, knowing it would soon be trampled into non-existence, she watched as the ships came into closer view. There were so many! Niera knew more would follow, knew it would take at least several days before all of them arrived, but the ones already here. They would be enough to take the shore, she was quite certain of that. The rising dust towards the east, back towards Troy already brought defenders, defenders that would be driven back she knew, driven back or slaughtered. She was not sure why they had been sent out, perhaps their leader had been fool enough to think they could hold the beach on their own. Sadly Niera watched as archers came over the dunes, already going into defensive stances, staking arrows into the ground beside them. They would be slaughtered. With a sudden jolt into the reality of the moment Niera gasped.. And so would she if she stood here much longer.

With a grimace Niera thought of her tae kwon do training. She was only a yellow belt, that would not do much against skilled bronze and iron. Niera almost smiled, not much at all. With another grimace she realised it was too late to head for the city, the gates would be already closed, she had stayed here to long. With a tremour of fear that she had not known lay within her she felt a sense of panic, stay here until arrows of swords brought her down along with the Trojan defenders? No. With scramble of movement she scanned the beaches for some sort of refuge some hiding place.. She came up empty, the beaches stretched long and bare ahead of her but.. With a faint glimmer in the distance Niera recalled the Temple of Apollo, the temple that was situated out here upon the beaches. It was only some mile away, glancing back to the all-to-fast approaching ships Niera broke into a steady sprint. Her hair flying confusedly around her head, her eyes widened with a fear she had never felt before, her legs working themselves into a desperate pace that she would hold until she reached it.

Blocking thoughts from her head Niera concentrated only on her burning lungs, the slowing feel of the sand beneath her feet, the temple that became clearer with every step. With a shuddering gasp Niera reached the temple steps, running up them and practically crashing into the priests that were waving incense here and there, intoning words that were prayers she supposed. With a another gasp of air that filled her lungs she, with non-to-much- ceremony yelled out... "Hide! Acheans, Greeks! They're here!" One of the older priests turned his gaze quizzically upon her, as if wondering her mad, "Apollo will send his help." He intoned as if explaining the obvious solution. With a suppressed look of disbelief, Niera tried the other priests faces all coming up with a blank trusting stare. Something of the stare an owner might get from it's dog. A very trusting dog and the owner was Apollo whom they were believing would lead the Greeks away from them.

With this another thought hit Niera, why had she supposed a temple safe? Why a temple for a hiding place? That would be the first place raided, treasure, gold.. Niera groaned as she ran backwards, to the doorway she had just entered intent on getting away. With shocked disbelief Niera watched as the first ship beached on the shoreline of Troy.


	5. 4 End the dream

4 - End the dream!

Face tightened with fear Niera watched as the first Greeks jumped onto the beaches of Troy. With shouts the Trojan defenders loosedtheir first volley of arrows, the shafts arcng up into the air and plunging down again with swift certainty. Cries of agony from the party advancing showed that at least a few of the bolts ahad struck their targets. It was over quickly, forming a joint shield the Greeks worked their way up until they reached the Trojans. With swift efficiency the defenders were dispatched. Niera found herself still standing there upon the steps of the temple, her eyes wide with an expression of shocked disbelief, the images of torn flesh and spurting arteries still clouding her mind. _One can never be prepared for this. _Was the thought that remained prominent in her mind. With a sudden shuddering breath Niera's vision cleared, the Greeks were headed for the temple, towards her. ONce again flashes of men falling, limp and petrified rose before her and with that Niera lost any scrap of courage that was lingering. An unknown "NO!" tore out of her, with sobbing breaths she rushed back, back into the temple to where the priests now knelt before the prone figure of Apollo's statue still muttering and chanting.

Scanning the interior wildly Niera came up with nothing, no place to hide properly, no way to escape. Despair and hopelessness washed over her in an irresistible wave. Turning, breath pumping hard and stomach wrenching from within Niera realised in a detached sort of daze that she was going to die. And what a way to die, centuries from hr own time, separated from anyone and everything familiar. Throwing back her head suddenly Niera let out a resounding laugh, even drawing a look from one of the priests. Well, if she was going to die she just might end up where she belonged, in her bed, waking from a dream that would fade from her memory. With a fierce grin Niera decided she might as well make the dream worthwhile. Unfortunately there were no weapons available in the temple but that aside she would do what she could.

Niera was still grinning when the first flood of soldiers swarmed into the temple, with furious abandon the priests, still kneeling before Apollo's image, were stabbed through and through, their blood wetting the sun god's alter. Watching coldly with a nearly maniacal smile Niera realised the Greeks had stopped their bloody work. There was short pause while Niera wondered why they did not immediately attack. Still caught up in the reckless mood that surged through her, Niera, smirking, assumed a power position that would have made her sensei proud. "What? After all I've read, mighty Greeks afraid?" The words rose without thought from her mouth as the soldiers slowly moved to circle the small figure poised defensively in the corner of the gilded temple, her dark hair a mass of tangled waves from her desperate run, her steel coloured eyes now assuming a icy narrowness that had always frightened her cousins. With harsh abruptness on of the men rasped out, "Bind her!" _How can they bind me if they mean to kill me, _thinking briefly and almost absently through a flurried haze of of action.

Her pivoting sidekick took the first soldier in the ribs sending him off-balance and Niera crashing backwards into the grasp of yet another soldier. Swinging her elbow to free herself Niera instead met, with jarring pain, the metal breastplate which protected the Grecian's chest. Arm numb with the impact Niera launched her good fist in a front punch that was blocked by impending hands. Arms caught and body still thrashing with enraged energy, Niera waited, waited for the sharp pain of metal piercing her flesh and driving through to her innards there ending the dream.

::: We're no getting worried now are we? laughs No, not ending the story just yet. dissapointed looks from readers Still have abit to go, haven't even begun explaining Niera's life, or her past. No, we're just getting into it. I did sort of hate to use the well-known temple we see in the movie but... It did seem a reasonable place to get captured.. Eeks! I've let to much out already, I'll stop before I spill everything. Thanks to my reviewers and suggestions will be followed, don't worry, I'm just taking my time about it all. ::::


	6. 5 Meeting

5 - Meeting

Still thrashing, despite the closed eyes and clenched in breath, waiting for the dreaded moment Niera felt fear, felt a real helpless fear that was in full measure the twinge she had felt when she saw the Greek ships pulling up at the beaches. In what she was sure was her last moment she opened her eyes, catching sight of the flashing blade that rose from the man opposite her, knowing that in a mere second that blade would end everything she knew, her life. With that last glimpse Niera knew she was going to die, knew with dread certainty as she watched, as if in slow motion, the blade approaching, so slow, moving so slow till with sudden realization Niera jolted back into the fast-moving present. Once again, unbidden words sprang from her throat, with a desperate cry, much like earlier but with force the other had lacked, "NO!" She couldn't die here, not here, not where she didn't belong, where no one knew her, knew her name, knew what she liked, knew her favorite food. With a speed she had not known was in her Niera wrenched free from the hands that were already loosening, so certain were they of the menacing blade, throwing herself side-ways onto the temple-floor she rolled, scrambling to her feet with frantic haste. With a following shout the men were already beginning to follow her, surround her. Was there no escape from them? From that cold metal that so sickened her because of the thought that her own blood would soon be splashed upon them. It would have seemed as not when a voice, cold and sharp rung out... "Stop!" That was all, as if by magic the men practically dropped their weapons. Standing back, their flashing tools lowered.

Almost unknowing a shiver ran through Niera's body, making her crouch herself together, her feet spread wide and defensively on the floor, her fists up in a position of blocking, though the idea of her flesh blocking steel was as ridiculous as she had known to begin with. Her hair scattered wildly around her face, eyes widened not only with her new-found recognition of true-fear but with apprehension, her breathing quickened noticeably, her chest rising and falling at a frantic pace. One of the men stepped forward, bowing with respect that even through her haze of fear Niera noted as being immense, "My Lord." Intoned the man, giving the other leeway. It was then that Niera's eyes flashed to the owner of the voice that had issued the order. What she saw was quite ordinary, for a man, tall with a well-muscled form of a soldier that had had to carry nearly his weight many-a-time, he owned light coloured hair with blue eyes that stood out in the bronze complexioned face of the medditeraen peoples. His face was square, with a large jaw that was set in a way that people always associated with stubbornness, Niera had yet to find out if this was true, his cheekbones were high, nearly as high as her own, standing out prominently in the hard-cut face. The expression there-on was one of frozen complacency, of one who has seen much and does not blink with surprise, one who has seen too much for that.

Looking up, seeing the man Niera knew with sudden certainty that this man was someone she knew, someone she would know upon learning his name. It was mostly the air about the man that convinced her of this. He was so sure of himself that how could others around him not be sure? Any doubt of heroics, bravery, courage, skill or ability on this man was instantly soaked up by the self-confident, almost arrogant air surrounding him. He knew what he was, how could others not? All these thoughts flashed confusedly and randomly through Niera's mind, she realized with a fading sense of sharpness that something like shock was occurring to her. Too much had happened to fast. Troy, Greeks, War, Blood, Bodies.. Words, pictures flashed, and flashed again, wet sand, wet with blood, dark almost black blood spreading in pools that had sustained the life of a man once. Niera's defensive stance was lost as she staggered backwards, reeling as if struck by the chaotic mess of tumbled thoughts and images in her head. It was too much to take, too much at once. This was not happening to her.. Couldn't be... Her... It wasn't possible... Didn't happen... Dreams... And then, darkness.

As the limp form of Niera crashed backwards, falling into a crumpled wreck of limbs on the floor of the temple, not far from the still-warm bodies of priests, the man stepped forward, striding confidently, his face unreadable and set in a way that suggested he had used the mask many times. There was a moment of silence where he looked down on the still body, then with brisk abruptness... "Did you harm her?" To the man that had bowed so deeply who responded with equal quickness, though lacking in the authority somewhat, "No, my lord. We did not." He did not go on to mention the obvious that they would have killed the girl had he not commanded otherwise but his eyes flickered unsteadily and it was evident that he was sure of his master's interest or reaction. "It was not us that caused that." Added the under-man, still with uncertainty. "No?" The question was cool and not really at all a question, there was sarcasm evident in it's tone. "I think so, though not from bronze." The under-man said nothing, bowing his head slightly as if acknowledging the fact. "Take her to my lodging." That was all, no explanation or other words and turning sharply on his heel the man wheeled, stalking out from the temple, not taking a second glance at the prone figure of Niera that was now being hauled up over the back of another man and taken away across the sands towards tents and shifty building that were already being erected, the beach already taken from all Trojan defenders.

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b Reviewers! /b Thank you so much for the encouragement! That really inspires one to put spirit and life into their stories. Thank you! I know it was short chapter but life is still very hectic for me... And this is just where the story-line is getting difficult. There are so many different paths Niera could take on this one and I'm divided on what to do with her, so.... I'm leaving it up to you and whatever you choose I'll make the best of out of the story. So let's take a vote... Do you want Romance for Niera? I didn't originally plan to include romance but this story-line is so diverse it might well fit it, but I warn you if you do choose romance, I have never written romance before so it might be something awkward, keep that in mind. For a second option, how about adventure! There's sure to be that anyway but do we want Niera just to be all hard and cool-adventure-woman type. Or? Something else? Give me your suggestions. Majority of the vote wins. Also! If the vote goes for romance, who do you want the guy to be? Here are three choices, b Achilles, /b (Why do I write that one first?) b Patroclus, /b (More her age really) b Other! /b So... Give me all your thoughts!


	7. 6 The Greeks

6 - The Greeks

With a flash of bright colours and noise Niera opened her eyes to the conscious world. It took several long moments for her to grasp where she was and what had taken place. Memory flooded back to her, in full spectrum, replaying disturbingly in her mind. It had been real, no dream, no such comfort to be found there. With a grimace Niera tried to move... Very real... Hands bound tightly (almost painfully) behind her back, the same done to her feet, Niera was lying lopsidedly on her side, her vision limited somewhat by her awkward position, she flailed about, struggling to regain a sitting posture. After several moments of effort she managed to accomplish her goal and take in her surroundings. She was in a sort of tent, linen walls framed a square abode which was held up by various posts staked into the sand that provided the surface beneath her. A large pile of stretched-out furs was strewn in one corner of the tent, several large chests also occupied space as well as a few other usual items. Niera had been placed (or rather thrown) into another corner of the construction, and as she she had sat upright rivulets of sand poured off from her battered jeans and loose tunic-top that replaced her former shirt. Almost unknowingly Niera tried to reach upwards to push back the mass of her tangled curls that now sprang forward over her eyes, the ropes that held her hands somewhat hindered that attempt and furthered thought.

She wasn't dead. She was among the greeks. Tied up and caught. Niera's face pulled into a deep frown, none of her thoughts were encouraging or optimistic, all of them had a fatalistic sense of doom about them. With another flash of recent memory Niera's mind delved up the image of the warrior, the man she had seen just before she... Niera's frown broke into a full-blown look of outrage. Just before she had keeled over like a limp fish. Fainted? No! She didn't faint, never had and never will. She had merely... No one had banged her on the head had they? With an almost sulking expression Niera's childish impulsion took on the fact that she had fainted for the first time in her life. She had always hated her sister for fainting, hated it when others fainted, it made them seem so weak and defenseless, now she had. Oddly enough that fact was bothering her more, at the moment, than any of her other problems, namely being captured in the middle of a war that changed history. Skipping back, before her keeling over like a dead fish, Niera remembered that man, the leader. Obviously. Who was he? She was still certain that she would know him when she learned his name and that made her all the more curious. Trying to install a slight amount of common sense into herself Niera tried to set everything in order, work it all to where she could understand where her position was. Her options were very limited, _Nothing like stating the obvious now_, Niera thought with rueful smile. She was tied up, stuck where she was and things like biting off ropes and that rot you read in books was merely that, for books, it never worked out in real-life and certainly wouldn't in her case.

The last thing she remembered, before she had... Niera once again winced at the thought, _fainted_, was that man. Was it reasonable to deduce that he had something to do with this? With her being where she was? Or had she just been dumped here for... Once again Niera's brows contracted. Why had she been taken here? Why hadn't she just been killed? What was the purpose for keeping her alive. The solution hit her hard, if she had been standing she would have staggered. Sheltered in the modern world as she had been the ideas of one's freedom being taken away, except through underground criminal ways, was preposterous. _Slavery!_ The word had a ugly taste to her mouth, that was what she was here for. Not her own self anymore, someone else's belonging. With a surge of self-righteous justice Niera's head snapped up, her face assuming a grim set. If she saw the person responsible for getting her here she would... Niera's vivid imagination supplied fine examples of punishment for the person threating her independent rights. Being killed in a war was one thing, not a pleasant thing at all, but being enslaved in a culture that she had never experienced... It was too much. Face still very much severe with anger Niera's teeth gritted, wait until she could get her hands on someone. Niera had never been one to cultivate common sense, she had never done so, now was no exception. A more steady-headed person would have perhaps considered the consequences of bringing about punishment on those whom obviously held the upper-hand, would have thought about where such rash actions might lead. Niera thought of no such thing but her own anger, which she nursed into a burning rage.

At that moment the very answer to her mental wish was supplied. Through all the voices and general bustle outside of the tent a close noise caught her disturbed attention. Looking upwards, towards the cut-in flap that marked the entrance of the tent, her eyes met someone to vent her indignant wrath upon. The very someone that had so caught her attention before her embarrassing loss-of-consciouness. Two others followed closely at his heels, a young fair-headed man and an older, darker soldier whose held some bearing of authority whereas the younger held himself merely as a boy who is careless. None of these things Niera noticed, her attention was centered on the one that was most clearly in charge and therefore (in her mind) responsible for all ill-doing towards her. Instead of bursting out in blind and confused raging, as one might have thought from Niera's state of mind, Niera's tactic in this stage of anger was always to cut as deeply as possible. To wound the opponent as much as she possibly could. Her family had always steered clear of her wrath for this very reason, Niera's methods were very effective and she held her grudges long. She dug up every bit of information she could to bring it to bear against her enemies. In her current position, she knew nothing of the man before her, she knew only that she was angry and that he was somehow responsible, therefore he was her enemy and must be brought down.

Awkwardly trying to bring her posture up with some sign of dignity, Niera realised with further outrage that she was being ignored, the younger man threw a curious but dismissing glance at her as he first entered but the others did not so much as look at her. Like she was.. Nothing.. Like she was one of those chests over there. With great difficultly fighting down the urgent impulse to start yelling and shouting Niera clenched her mouth shut, her steel-eyes more gray coloured than usual, forming into icy spheres. She would not be the first one to talk, as if trying to gain their notice. "Agamemnon will not have liked what you did today." The words were said in an almost gleeful tone, full of mirth as if enjoying the idea. They came from the younger-man who couldn't have been more than twenty. Pulling a goblet (the sort you would see in museums today) from one of the chests and pouring dark-coloured liquid into it from a nearby pitcher the warrior (as Niera had labeled him wrathfully) glanced back towards the young-man. "You know I don't expect he will." He responded, a grim smile forming on his face as he lifted the cup to drink. "Achilles, was it wise though? Desecrating the temple of Apollo?" The gleeful look had flown from the young-man's face and was now replaced by one of sobriety. His look was mirrored more intensely by that of the older soldier, whose look was that almost of masked fear. Upon the name of 'Achilles' Niera's face at changed, not from the angry set that it was in, that look was still there, but was filled also with curiosity and then with more anger. So this was what the hero, practically the star of Homer's epic, was like. An arrogant, prig-headed, git who went around enslaving normal people! Well, so much for the hero-image of Achilles. If it was possible Niera's face darkened more. He had the nerve to ignore her, to ignore her! Overcome with cynical wrath she flung out, her dark curls standing out over her face, "Oh no, I'm sure Apollo's going to come swooping down on your precious Achilles and give him a killing sickness. I bloody well hope he does!" Three faces turned abruptly to face her. Niera had got her attention.

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b Reviewers! /b Another chapter up.. And in answer to your question b Gerber /b No, I'm going by the book in this one. No Breisis to get in the way. And so far the vote tally is ::: Patroclus (1) Achilles (0) Other (0) ::: Come on! Vote people..Give me your opinions, especially vote!


	8. 7 A conversation

7 - A conversation

As three pairs of eyes turned towards her Niera felt nothing but rage. Heedless to all else she continued recklessly, "Oh, yes. That's right, it can talk. You bloody well better believe it can!" Then realising that if she let herself go too much more she'd end up screaming and shouting, a fact that did absolutley nothing for her diginity or for the situation at hand, she shut up, making herself be satisfied with sending murderous looks on the three and especially at the 'warrior.' The silence after her dialogue was held for a good few moments before a sudden ringing laughter from the young man was heard, still laughing with a surprised look on his face he turned towards Achilles. "What have you got here Achilles?" There was another pause as the young man's laughter quieted. Looking at Niera with a unconcerned expression mingled with slight surprise Achilles responded, "I don't know Patroclus. Why don't you tell us?" This last bit was directed at Niera with a cold gaze. "You want to know my name?" She answered with a tiny twitch to her mouth, her eyes steel ice. "I am Niera, and you remember that name because I tell you now that if you do not let me free you will regret it till your last hour." She said the words casually, without the intensity that might have been expected at the content of them but in her face there was no mistaking the sincerity of what she thought her words to be. During her discourse both Patroclus and Achilles had been examining her closley and as she closed her mouth the latter spoke, "Where do you come from? Your clothes, speech they are foriegn. You are not a Trojan." Once again ruffled at her loud statement being brushed aside without notice Niera clamped her teeth together, her face settling into what she would have called an 'un-readable' mask, others might have called it a look of murder. During this time the older soldier, who had glanced at Niera un-easily at her outburst concerning Apollo gave a muttered statement to Achilles and with a dip of his hand lifted the flap back and was gone into the growing dark.

After a moment of her silence Achilles turned, taking another swallow from his goblet, apparently Niera was once again dismissed from all notice. Patroclus, with another curious glance at her, also turned, following Achilles over to one of the chests where he sat his hair swinging forward to cover his face, his hands idly fingering the belted dagger at his side. "Ill-wishes aside..." Here he took another almost amused look at Niera, "Apollo's anger is not a thing to be stirred, you know this. Do you think yourself like unto the gods?" There was a stony wall of silence from Achilles who turned his back, his hand still grasping the goblet. Quiet hung over the tent for some time before Patroclus stood abruptly, his face now creased in a frown. Seeing the motion Achilles turned back to him his face calm, "Enough Patroclus. We will speak later." That was all and with another hard stare from each other Patroclus turned and following the older soldier's manner ducked out of the tent and strode away. Niera crouched where she was, her head now filled with various thoughts, names, she was still trying to sort it all out and in the period of time that followed she was busy organizing what she knew into some semblance of sense, which even then didn't fit together all the way, she recognised the name Patroclus and placed it for Achille's friend that got killed, but who's to say he really did die. Biting back the urge to grind her teeth, a bad habit, Niera was leaning forward her face a frowning mask of concern and frustration. "You still do not know where you are from?" The words and sarcasm in the tone brought Niera jolting back to the present and lifting her eyes she felt a glare grow on her face, a glare that quickly turned to a look of embarassment. Achilles, during her moments of deep thought had thrown back his tunic and was now shruging a robe over his naked body. Quickly averting her eyes Niera's rage was growing by the moment, _Self concieted pig! Getting undressed in front of me_, _sick..._ The thought trailed off as the shadow of the man stood over her, fighting the impulse to scoot backwards and away. The flash of metal catching her eyes she watched, tauntly, as he brought the blade through the ropes that held her feet making her able to draw herself up better.

"Sleep." He stated firmly as he moved over to the pile of furs in the opposite corner, stretching himself out over them. With an unbelieving stare after him Niera flexed her feet, moving them until they felt right. Edging into a more comfortable position she threw a dark glance at the body in the corner, "So now, what's to stop me from escaping while your asleep." A head lifted briefly, blue eyes meeting her own in the dark of the tent, "The guards positioned outside." With another disgusted glare Niera laid backwards, fumbling for a comfortable position in the sand, and hands both bound behind you are by no means a comfortable position no matter how you look at it. _How am I supposed to sleep when I'm starving._ Was the last thought that entered her head before she dozed off, her body overcome from the tremondous strain of the day. As her body relaxed and her breathing resumed an even steady pace Achilles remained awake in the dark, many thoughts circling through his head. The day's battle was still replaying but a part that stood out was very interesting to him, when he had entered the temple to see a small figure standing alone, feet braced in an aggresive stance that might have looked comical except for the fact that the girl looked as though she had done it before. There was a vibriant glow to the girl that caught your attention, she was... alive. That was the only word that could describe her, she did not merely exist, she lived. A sudden noise from the other corner caught his notice as his head snapped in that direction. Niera had abandoned her peaceful sleep and was no thrashing, violently on the floor, whispers and moans escaping from her. Achilles, with sllight caution rose from his bed his face interested and intent. Niera was talking in her sleep.

:::: Okay.. Here's the vote tally! Patroclus (3) Achilles (3) Other (0) So it's at a tie between the two cousins.. Just a few more votes and I'm sticking with it. Thanks to reviewers.


	9. 8 Slip of the tongue

8 - A slip of the tongue

Leaning closer Achilles examined the thrashing figure before him. She was small, with little stature but unusual muscles lining her limbs, her eyes, he remembered quite clearly, were an the colour of the ocean when it grew clear but cold, her hair was a dark brown with small flashes of red to it, it hung to her shoulder blades wavy and rebellious. Her prominently boned face was now twisted in a expression of fear, the sort of panicked kind you saw on animals just before they were killed. Something was lying heavy on her for this kind of disturbment. Achilles was now listening carefully, trying to make sense out of the mumbled words and moaning fear that were pouring forth from Niera. With another small yell Niera's legs shot out catching Achilles in the groin and sending him rolling on the ground, letting out a few gasps himself, after a few moments of extreme pain, on Achilles part, he righted himself and limping slightly, making sure to stay clear of the still kicking legs, leaned over Niera grasping her shoulders firmly, "Calm, calm... It's gone." He repeated softly careful not to wake her up but at the same time still her dark dreams. Continuing his words softly as he might have done with a fidgety mare he watched as Niera's wild movements slowed until they stopped altogether. With a sigh, and still wishing he hadn't been so quick to unbind her feet, he moved to return to his pallet but something stopped him. What was it that bothered the girl? What could possibly trouble a mere girl so much that she would have those kind of reactions? Curious despite himself Achilles once again knelt, gingerly, beside the breathing body. After a moment's consideration he asked quietly, his voice low, "What troubles you?" There were several long moments of silence in which Achilles almost turned away to move back to his furs but stopped just as Niera's lips moved, her voice sounding fervent and wild. "What if he was wrong! What if it was merely a story... But the names. No... He is here, all of them must be." There was another pause with a shuddering gasp from Niera before she continued, Achilles face growing more intense as her words progressed.

"Home... Dreams... If I could just go back, it's all a dream." Yet again Niera stopped and this time was silent for a good amount of time, the quiet only broken by her renewed thrashing and troubled noises. Once again Achilles made as if to ask her again when she picked up where she had left off but now he could make nothing out of her dialogue except for single words, strung together here and there amid her desperate rambling. "Trojan War. Burning... It all burns, but no.. That's wrong, He's wrong..." Achilles by now was just keeping himself from waking the girl and getting whatever story there was to be had out of her without further trouble. But something held him back, a more patient side of him that bid him to wait and listen, then... To his disturbed astonishment Niera started listing names, frantically, as if her life depended on it. "Achilles, Patroclus, Nestor, Agamemnon, Odysseus, Ajax, Diomedes, Menelaus, Paris, Hector, Priam... Helen.. Greeks.. It was so long ago, why now. But they were supposed to win." As the names progressed Achilles face settled into a look of calculating wonder, that this girl should know the main leaders of the Greek armies let alone the Trojans, but as the last few word slipped from Niera's mouth Achilles moved forward his hard hands grasping the girl's shoulders with an iron grip and pulled her upright and into the air, bringing Niera awake with a wild shout. "No! It wasn't me you bloody..." The words ended abruptly as Niera's eyes snapped into focus and took in everything. Trying not to be overcome with fear at her position, the hard-faced expression of the man gripping her fiercely, she swallowed trying to figure out what was happening. Without one word Achilles picked her up, thrusting her over his shoulder while Niera, still unsure of what was going on, managed to get a kick in Achilles stomach before a hand held her feet still. Resisting the urge, once more, to start shouting obscenities Niera growled. "What? Off to the executioners block already?" There was an unnerving silence in return to her sarcasm and as Niera found the wits to pay attention around her she realised they were still upon the Trojan beaches, and were now heading down a long row of sandy dunes where below, further down the coastline, lay a thousand lights twinkling in the night darkness.

They were campfires Niera realised, and the number of them astonished her. Greece had emptied it's land to be at war. Coming back to her situation with another struggling kick she noted with sudden interest that Achilles was limping, he hadn't before, that she had noticed, she didn't have much more time to ponder on the matter for just then they entered the first out-laying tents where bodies of soldiers were sprawled out on the sands, the sound of snoring piercing through the muttering laughter and talk of the men. At the first few looks from the men gathered there Niera felt her stomach shrinking, she held their eyes just as much as Achilles did and for a different reason, obviously. With the first few calls from the soldiers that were now gathering about Niera's rage, that had been sleeping with her surprise at Achilles unexpected actions, sprang into full life. Kicking viciously, and managing to free her legs from Achilles impending grasp, she swung her bound fists pounding hard on the warrior's back. Her legs beating a wild tattoo on the front of him, thrashing and moving her whole body with fierce energy she was gratified to find that Achilles nearly dropped her, but unfortunately 'nearly' was not 'did' and with no other tool left to her besides her tongue she shouted at the now jeering calls, "Talk all you want you rotten faggots! Sick bastards whose mother's deserted you when they first saw your ugly faces!" If Niera could have seen the half-forming smile that was growing on Achilles face at her remarks she would have been even more enraged, as it was her present anger was enough. Still laughing the men backed off though they still watched and growing talk could be heard as Niera caught the words, "..Towards the leader's tents..." _Brilliant! _Groaned Niera inwardly, her whole body shaking with exhaustion, rage, fear, and hunger. _And what in the blazes is up with this..._ Niera was mentally referring to Achilles drastic behavior of which there still had been no explanation for. All Niera could do was wait and apprehend what lay ahead of her at this walk's end.

::::: And Achilles has won the vote! Yes, you did really know all along he would, I mean... We're all thinking of the movie's Brad Pitt even though I'm trying to lean Achilles personality towards the Iliad more. The movie really has wrecked any mental image I used to get of him (Achilles) now all I see is Brad Pitt's face for Achilles. (shakes head sadly) Bad! bad Brad Pitt! So yes, since you've decided the treacherous path of romance for Niera, we'll see how it turns out, hopefully interesting. And don't laugh if my romance discussions/scenes are horridly stupid. I've never done them before. Thank you reviewers! Your brilliant to have around. I look forward so much to reading the reviews, I think that's even more fun that writing the actual story!:::


	10. 9 Shocked!

9 - Achean Leaders

It was only several minutes later when Niera found herself standing, rather clumsily (her hands tied behind her) by a large fire inside a makeshift erected hall. _Really, it's not that bad for spur of the moment._ Niera remembered thinking ridiculously as that was the last thing she should have been worried about. Trying hard not to breathe fast and make herself as calm as she could expect to be she watched as Achilles, who had set her where she now was, paced back and forth on the sand his short hair flung over his eyes and face a stern set of intenseness. Niera had run over in her mind, several times, for reasons that had led to this and had come up with nothing. One moment she had been sleep and had been nothing more than an item to this man, this 'hero' and then... Well.. Niera unknowingly sighed, her breath letting out in a deep whoosh her body sagging with exhaustion. She had not eaten or slept (really) for over 24 hours and now was beginning to feel the weight of it. Despite her predicament she could have gladly laid down there on the sand and closed her eyes.

As it was she didn't have much time to think on that for just then, the guard, whom Achilles had sent running not long before, came back, his rate of breathing showing that had had run to accomplish his goal. "Lord." He intoned with a deep nod of his head to Achilles, "They will come." With another nod at a dismissive gesture from Achilles the guard left. Her head uplifted and swung backwards as far as it could go, Niera, looking up towards the sky asked quietly, "What now? What happens to me?" There was an odd silence for a moment before, to her surprise, Achilles answered. "I meet with the leaders, you with me." Her head swinging tiredly towards him, her steel eyes now soft with a sleepy tendency, Niera's face twisted in questioning. "Why?" She asked simply, no further words needed. This time her question was met with absolute silence, Achilles giving her a hard stare that Niera did not like at all. Resisting the urge to shrink under that gaze Niera merely fumbled to the ground, sitting on the sand beneath her. She didn't understand any of it, not one bit of it. There was no good now worrying about it, she wanted sleep and rest and food, the former most prominently. She obviously, at the moment, was going to be getting those the best she could do would be to wait, to try and not think.

How much later she did not know Niera was brought awake by an arm, lifting her from the ground and placing her unsteadily on her feet. Her eyes blurry from lack of sleep and the need for it Niera gazed around her. There were at least a dozen men surrounding her, men in their prime, older men, younger men. With a start Niera took a step backwards her eyes wide with non-understanding. Her step backwards sent her bump into a body behind her, Achilles who had pulled her up from her brief sleep. Before Niera could think anymore he had spoken, not to her but to the men gathered. "Leaders of the Greeks, as you well know today the beaches of the Trojans were taken. I myself led that first raid, a raid which led into the temple of Apollo where my men killed priests and there found..." Here there was a slight pause and Niera remembered thinking vaguely that Achilles would have made a good story-teller. "This girl." The quiet all around was so audible that Niera felt like holding her breath. She did not like being referred to as 'this girl' but at the moment she was to afraid to be angry. In some ways fear is a useful tool, other times it is not.

This for Niera was one of those times it was not. It was blocking the anger that Niera needed to keep upright, to face those men to whatever end. The immense fear she felt was keeping her anger from coming out. Still trying to master it and get control of something, even the smallest bit of herself, Niera felt a panic sliding over her body. What did they want? The men were staring wordlessly at her, their many eyes boring holes through Niera into the ground behind. It was another moment before one of the men spoke up, a large heavy-set man who was getting on in years. "Tell us Achilles, why a girl should rouse us all from our beds?" Niera once again felt the pressure of the dismissive comment to her mind. How she hated being called 'girl' and hated being ignored so easily. Achilles face was casual as he answered, "What if the girl could foretell the future? What if the girl knew things that would help this war to end. In our favour."

At his last words talk arose with vivid intensity from the men gathered. Niera was stunned. _Foretell the what?_ With eyes widened, the blur now gone and replaced by vibrant colours that shouted the reality of her situation Niera stumbled and would have fallen except for the heavy hand on her shoulder that held her up. The talk among the men grew louder, controversy arising like smoke from a fire. Knowing full well that she couldn't predict tomorrow's weather Niera felt a great pit knot up in her stomach. What had made them think she could? She couldn't. That was that. Maybe they would let her go as soon as they found she couldn't. Not stopping to try and feel for logic and reasonability in this thought Niera plunged forward her head snapping upright. "Quiet!" Her husky voice rising above the clamour and noise of the assembled leaders she faced their gazes, feeling now with a surge of heat, anger. The recent fear was washing away and Niera was feeling very angry, she did not like being dismissed as nothing! She had been shamefully mistreated, no food, no water, no rest, and to top it off being told she could foretell the future! Her face set in a cold look, eyes flashing with challenge she announced calmly and in the same sarcastic tones she had used in Achilles tent. "Just so you all know before you rip the others hair out, I can't foretell anything. Oh... Except that within the next few moments your going to release me and watch me walk out of here free." If the silence before had been impressive this time it was doubled.


	11. 10 Sorceress?

10 - Sorceress?

The scene was an odd one to behold. A small figure, hands bond securely behind her back, standing with obvious defiance before an assembled group of men. The men who were now staring with disbelief. As Niera's last words finally were absorbed an old man stepped forward from the throng, the clouded look in the eyes of his lined face giving him a far-away look. He was dressed in a robe the colour of purple, his white shaggy hair hanging well below his shoulders in thin strands. One thin gnarled arm held up a polished staff of wood. As the men's eyes now turned on him Niera heard a murmur, "Calchus..." The name was familiar, Niera was sure she'd heard it before but she couldn't place it and let it go by. Her angry look was now turning, without her realising it, into one of curiosity. Who was the old man? Stepping up to where he was only a yard from her Calchus looked at her. Niera couldn't explain the feeling but it was something like prickly dots poking all through her body, probing, pushing. Wincing from the odd feeling Niera pushed back, unaware that her mental effort was showing clearly on her physical frame. It seemed like hours, when in actuality it was only mere moments, before the lancing pain stopped and Calchus's eyes lowered. There was low murmuring from the men as Niera felt beads of sweat trickling slowly down her forehead and into her eyes. Annoyed that she couldn't raise her hands to wipe the perspiration away Niera felt her legs trembling with weakness. She needed food badly or she was afraid she wouldn't have the strength to stand but at the moment there was no way she was sitting down while all the rest of them stood, it was bad enough that when they'd come they had caught her sleeping. Still trying to puzzle out what had just happened and how the old man fit into it Niera looked up again, at Calchus, her gaze catching his with questioning clarity. She found nothing there, only hazed eyes that were rheumy with age. What had made her think... Niera shook her head quickly. All this business about foretelling and the lot was making her jumpy, that odd feeling was only a result of no sleep and no food, both of which she desperately needed. The man that had spoken before, the heavily-set muscled one, once again raised his voice. "What do you see Calchus? Is there truth in what Achilles tells us?"Niera almost sighed with relief, _good! At least they trust the old man. He'll tell them I can't tell the rotten future. _To Niera's utter dismay and abandon when Calchus spoke again it was nothing she wanted to hear.

"I can not see her. Not clearly. Something covers her, hides her, something powerful that resists me." Niera stared incredulously at the man. _He's mad!_ That was the first thought that sprang into her mind followed directly by, _They believe him!_ It was true. With odd looks and muttering whispers the men were regarding her with intense interest. "A sorceress..." The words met Niera's ears with grating force. With sudden vehemence and the air of one who amazed by the stupidity of another Niera spoke up, "A sorceress? Foretelling the future? Your all mad. Every one of you. And especially you." Niera gestured angrily at Calchus. "Power that resists you? The only power I've got is in these hands you've tied up." Feeling the strain of her words and feeling her eyes ready to droop with exhaustion Niera stumbled another step backwards, once again, annoyingly, knocking into Achilles. "Then who are you?" This was directed forcefully at her by the large man who's manner Niera was beginning to find very irritating. Opening her mouth to speak Niera's mind raced. What could she tell them? She didn't know enough to make up a plausible lie. They already knew she couldn't be a trojan, not with her way of talking and especially not with her mannerism. With a snap she shut her mouth a sigh escaping her. This was never going to end. With a self-satisfied smile the large man, who Niera was sure by now she heavily disliked, stepped forward, advancing. "You can't tell us who you are? Where you're from? Why not?" Niera's mouth set stubbornly, hoping they couldn't see the tremble in her body, the waning sense of alertness, too much more of this and... Niera's head jerked upwards, she would not faint again! Once was bad enough, twice... With a jarring shake Niera gathered her fumbling wits. "It's none of your business." She responded coldly. Niera saw the blow coming, saw all to clearly the back handed fist approaching, but in her bodily state she couldn't move fast enough. With a burst of strange light Niera felt impact and saw double, images blurring and fading with flickering white light in between.

An odd ringing noise accompanied the blow as blackness overcame the white edges of her vision. As Niera's body slumped backwards, back onto Achilles who held her prone frame steady, there was a silence. "High King. Perhaps you would wish not to win this war?" These words came casually from Achilles who was still supporting Niera. Agamemnon's face was clouded with anger as he stared darkly at the still face of Niera, a large red mark showing clearly on one cheek, blood now trickling down a gash caused by the heavy signet ring on his hand. Calchus was standing nearby, his old head shaking and fingers clutching his staff. Looking from Niera up to Achilles Agamemnon's face grew even blacker. "I do what I will Achilles." "It is obvious." Replied the former with absent tones. "Even to your own undoing. That girl is mine, no man has the right to touch her unless I say it. You will find, Agamemnon, that Achilles honour is held in high order, not to be crossed by _any _man." With another glare Agamemnon stepped back, back among the men who were now looking askance as if not wishing to witness the tenseness between the two leaders. Only one other besides Calchus was staring on with interest. If Niera had been conscious to overhear Achilles words concerning her, especially the bit concerning her status to him she would have gone mad with rage. As it was it was fortunate she was not conscious. As Agamemnon turned back Achilles lifted Niera. This time, with no fear from her struggling, his arm around her shoulders as one might carry a small child. As he made as though to leave Calchus once again spoke, "This is no ordinary girl Achilles. Mark that! Watch her well, do not leave her to her own self or you might find trouble. The gods have marked this one. And where the gods leave their mark expect much."

A short look was exchanged between the two before Achilles turned and striding with longs steps moved out of the meeting hall. As the rest of the leaders watched the warrior leave, one of them separated himself from the group, following Achilles hurriedly. "Achilles." At the sound of his name Achilles paused, knowing the voice. "Odysseus." He acknowledged waiting to continue his stride as the former caught up with him. The reddish hue of the stocky man's hair caught the firelight as he spoke, "It is like you. Finding a strange girl that even one as god-filled as Calchus can not determine." There was quiet for a moment before he went on, his rugged face becoming still. "What makes you say she can foretell? Few on this earth can." Achilles swung his head, his blue eyes meeting Odysseus's with gravity. "She knows things friend. In her sleep, she spoke all of our names. The names of our leaders, the Trojans, she spoke of burning, of victory. I cannot be certain for who but she knows things. The gods have marked her indeed. Do you notice her way of speaking. Even yet it has earned her a memento from Agamemnon." Achilles face hardened at the mention of the High King. "He oversteps himself." Odysseus gave a short chuckle. "I knew what was coming when I first heard her respond to him." As they neared the edge of the soldier's camp Odysseus veered away from Achilles path. "Till tomorrow Peleus's son." He said by way of leave, steps fading off into the night.


	12. 11 A new morning

11 - A new morning

As thin rays of light worked their way laboriously through slits in the entrance-way to the tent Niera opened her eyes blearily. Looking around her in odd abandon it was not until her eyes came to rest upon the form of Achilles, lying stretched out upon his pallet of furs, Niera wouldn't have called it a bed, that memory was restored to her. Last night's proceedings came back to her with a rush and with a rapid blink of her lashes Niera's last re-collation was a back-handed fist coming her way. Trying to shake her head to wake herself thoroughly Niera, despite herself, groaned. A throbbing pain rushed to take it's place in the side of her forehead. Wishing desperately that she could take back those words last night, the same words that now earned her this nauseating pain, Niera pushed herself slowly up on one arm, an arm that was now unbound. She was lying on a fur skin, Niera would have been the last to know what type of animal it was from, over to one corner of the tent, just opposite of Achilles. It took several minutes of continued thinking for Niera to actually realise that both her hands and feet were free, that she could escape. Head pounding Niera rose slowly to her feet, sand cushioning against any noise. With bated breath Niera reached to push back the flap of the tent. At that moment a casual voice interrupted Niera's bright plans for escape.

"I would not try that if I were you."

Scowling despite the pain Niera turned back again, her hands crossing firmly under her chest. Niera glared at the form of Achilles who was still lying prone on his bed, light eyes open and watching Niera with languid interest.

"Why wouldn't you be doing this" The tone was that of burning sarcasm and exasperation. She hated being toyed with! A lazy smile rose to Achilles strong-jawed face as he answered,

"My men surround this tent. Thirty and five myrmidons who have not touched a women since we sailed from Greece."

The voice was like the smile, lazy and laughing as if exulting in Niera's helplessness. Niera's hands sprang to her sides, fist clenching and unclenching, with a voice quivering with barely controlled anger Niera spat out,

"You think that frightens me"

Rape had never really entered her mind. Death yes, but the other... Niera shivered suddenly, through her anger feeling that same wave of fear that was only just held at bay. Despite her words she did feel fear. Well, in any case, even if Achilles men did ever manage to catch her while she was escaping she could put up a fairly good account of herself. Rape! The word rose up like bitter bile in Niera's mind. Such a thing was indeed present in the modern world but here... Here it could be done out in the open of any place to a slave and no one would take the least bit of notice. Chest now heaving from her thoughts, from the helplessness of everything, Niera tried to calm herself, to get a grip of everything. She lost her head to quickly when it came to this man and his words, she let him have to much of an effect on her. With a resolved grimace Niera whirled to return to her pallet and instantly wished she hadn't been so abrupt. With another groan and just missing falling from the dizzy flight of colours that collided with her senses, Niera stumbled onto her pallet, her knees drawn up and her hands cradling a fiercely aching head. Achilles observed her for a moment, the small smile fading as he intently watched Niera's reaction to his words. He knew fear when he saw it and there was fear in the girl but it was held back by anger. Achilles had always retained his self-posture, he thought of himself as a smoothly trained warrior, killing coldly. He also knew his capacity to anger but it was usually kept away by his own rigorous control. Here however, the girl's anger seemed to sustain her rather than wear away at her. Stating merely what he saw he answered her question after watching her, with even more interest, stumble to her furs.

"I see fear within you. A fear that whispers despair into your heart, that speaks of your own undoing, that fore-knows your own end. I know my death, my end and am content. Will you be so with your own"

Niera, despite herself, felt her body tremble, the fear was pushing hard now, almost breaking through the anger barrier that held it. She shut her eyes quickly, not now caring if Achilles saw her reaction. She was alone. No one would help her. She wanted to lie down and forget everything, she wanted to sleep, to return to the dream world that had cast her into this unknown world. Into this ancient time. Clenching her jaw, eyes still shut, hoping to block out Achilles presence, Niera refused to answer the warrior. Minutes passed and as they passed so abated Niera's sense of despair that had been brought on by Achilles dooming words. Hunger pains gnawed agonizingly at her belly. She needed food. As if reading the thought and realsing that Niera would not answer Achilles rose from his bed, his tunic hanging about his body in loose folds.

"Eat then. There is food."

Niera's eyes flashed open at the mention of food and at Achilles gesture her gaze alit upon a silver platter that lay upon a chest in the corner. Catching up a oblong loaf of bread Achilles tossed it to her. Niera's eager hands grasped the loaf possessively and was about to sink her teeth into it when she looked up at Achilles who was still standing there, watching her. With a surge of stubborn pride Niera knew she wouldn't taste that bread until Achilles at least looked away. He was not about to see her tear away at the food like a hungry animal. There was a silent pause for several minutes before Achilles shrugged and catching hold of the tent flap, drew it back, just ready to duck outside his head turned and looking into Niera's steel eyes he said quietly.

"Remember my words. It will not be upon my head if my men catch you out of my tent."

With those last words and earning a desperate glare from Niera he strode quickly out onto the beach. Leaving Niera to her food.


	13. 12 Questions

12 - Troubled facts

With long steps Achilles made his way through the Greek camps, walking unhurriedly, with no direct purpose in mind. His light-blue eyes stared thoughtfully ahead of him. It had been a long time since he had had to think deeply into a certain matter, more specifically into the matter of his captive, the girl, Niera. With a grimacing shake of his head Achilles swung east, back towards the wave-strewn beach. Even now he could see her face, those eyes in that oddly defiant and fearing face, he had never before seen such changing emotions in a person. Niera was impossibly capable of great feeling, whether hate or love. It was strange how she was troubling him, Achilles reflected, his broad face set in a thoughtful look. But then, this was no ordinary captive, Calchus, the like in power of mind that Achilles had ever seen, had sensed something in the girl, something that had fought against him. He had said as much. Achilles had been somewhat hesitant about leaving Niera to herself, alone in his abode, but he was confident that even her with all her seemingly courage would not take his warning in vain. He did not think she would leave it, not if she had any thought on the wisdom of the matter. A light footstep from behind him caused him to swing around quickly, the rugged form of Odysseus was standing behind him, face set in a greeting smile.

"Thinking are you Achilles"

The tone was that of joking fun but there was a layer of seriousness also. Achilles returned the greeting with a nod of his own, his eyes turning back to the tossing waves stretching out before him.

"Thinking I am."

He replied quietly, knowing Odysseus would have more to say.

"I thought that was my pursuit friend, you would mean to take my reputation as cunning."

Odysseus's laugh sounded in the air, his blue eyes gazing curiously at Achilles.

"Your thoughts are troubling you are they not"

He asked more quietly, guessing half at the reason. Achilles swung back once more towards Odysseus, it was hard to hide much of anything from the Ithican ruler. Lowering himself Achilles sat hunched upon the sand, his gaze again leaving Odysseus for the landscape.

"Where is Calchus"

He asked abruptly, dismissing Odysseus's question. Odysseus looked on knowingly, his face turning in a sly smile that he was perhaps best known for.

"He makes camp to the west side, near the end of the tents."

Odysseus paused briefly before continuing, thinking on his words carefully.

"It concerns the girl doesn't it"

Achilles face remained motionless as he answered, his voice low.

"It does."

The statement did not invite further discussion in that area and Odysseus did not press the issue. Smiling once again the older man turned as though to leave but stopped and turning his head back towards Achilles he spoke,

"Remember Peleus's son, if you need my counsel, my aid, you have but to ask."

With that he turned and moved away leaving Achilles sitting on the sand, his face turned stonily seawards. Odysseus's words hung in the air as Achilles suddenly smiled, it was good to know friends among enemies. He remained there for some time, motionless, his thoughts intertwining and tangling amidst the contours of planning. He had come to this war for one purpose, glory, renown. He had yet to win that, indeed, he had yet to fight a battle. The scrimmage on the beaches could not be counted as real fighting. Pitched battle still lay ahead unless by some twist of odd fate the gods saw fit to end this war before it began in earnest. Somehow Achilles doubted that even if the gods intervened could this war be prevented, too much had happened, to many threads of life twisted to cross in the ways of battle. The fates had already spun the backdrop, all that was needed was for the weave to be filled in. It must have been an hour later when Achilles finally rose, grains of sand clinging to his robes as he moved with haste towards the west end of the Achaean camps. He needed to see Calchus, there was much to ask, much that needed knowing and if anyone could answer his questions the wise-man could. It was sometime later, after making his way through countless tents, that Achilles came to where a large richly embroidered tent was pitched, a guard stood stoically outside of it and acknowledged Achilles with a deep bow.

"Is your master inside"

The question was fired in an abrupt tone, the guard glanced once at Achilles impatient figure before motioning the warrior to wait as he ducked inside the tent returning a short while later holding the flap open for Achilles to enter. Calchus was sitting stiffly, his ever-present staff nearby at his hand, his white hair hanging despondently about his head, his clouded eyes regarded Achilles knowingly before motioning him to be seated. Achilles sat, his own eyes intent and serious.

"I know why you are here"

Calchus spoke haltingly, his face as intent as Achilles.

"The child. You wish to know of her."

There was no question in the words and Achilles merely nodded. He did not need to ask why the old one knew of his purpose in coming, all he needed were explanations. There was much he needed to know.

"The child is not of our world. Her essence is... foreign. I can not say how this is, or why, the gods and the girl alone know this."

Achilles leaned forward impatiently,

"Can she foretell old one? Is there a power in her that can aid us in this war, that can help us overpower the trojans"

The words came forcefully, biting their way into open air. There was a blanket of heavy silence for a long moment.

"The girl has power that is not common, a sorceress perhaps. Foretelling also there may be. I can not be certain, I read signs, omens, I can not foretell myself. The gods reveal what they will to me. The girl is shielded from my inner sight, I may only view her with such tools as you yourself have. There is power, it is not for me to say how it may be used. She is dangerous Achilles. Perhaps to herself more than any other. Such actions as that that earned her Agamemnon's wrath are wisely kept in check."

Calchus's cracked voice stopped, his dusky eyes flickering unsteadily in the dim light of the tent. Achilles own were not averted, his forehead wrinkled in concentration of thought. Finally he spoke, his voice now soft and low, his tone menacing.

"Then what there is to be learned must be gotten from the girl herself. I take that upon myself to discover."

Calchus was merely silent, his gaze now sharper and his look keenly observing. Without further words Achilles stood and pushing back the tent cover strode with purpose towards his own tent.


	14. 13 Answers that lead nowhere

13 - Answers that lead nowhere

Niera was crouching bitterly in her corner of Achilles tent, her dark hair loose and flung over her shoulders, her steel eyes thick with resentment. Her expression could almost have been called childish so sulking was it. Another person might have laughed to see her in such a position but for the seriousness and actuality of it all. Niera had been thinking furiously about Achilles words and would have called it a bluff if not for the dooming realism that he wasn't lying to her about his men and their, Niera's mind inserted the word, problems. The tents were packed to closely together for her to make a clean escape, not in the daylight anyway. Biting her lip Niera's brows contracted, her mind trying to come up with some sort of plan, some way to get free of this horrid Greek camp. An abrupt movement at the entranceway caught her eyes as Achilles strode purposefully into the lodging. Niera stayed where she was, glaring smolderingly at him. Instead of ignoring her presence, as he had done mostly since she had first arrived, the warrior moved swiftly over to her, towering menacingly. Something was wrong, Niera could feel it almost instantly, not only through Achilles hostile actions but in the very atmosphere in the tent.

"Who are you?"

The words were fired quickly, impatiently, their tone leaving no room for dismissal or disobedience in answering. Niera blinked. _Ah, not good. _The words flashed briefly in her head as her hands raised themselves automatically in a defensive position. Tilting her head to one side Niera's tongue once more set to work doing as much damage and insult as she could.

"Suffering memory loss then? As I already told you, I am Niera."

There was a definite cynical twist to her comment as Achilles blue eyes turned to hardened chips of ice, his face seemed even grimmer than before as he leaned down, his face inches from Niera's.

"You will tell me all you know of trojans, of greeks, of yourself and where you come from, of this war itself. You will speak and you will speak NOW!

Niera, despite her resolve, flinched backwards at the forceful and deadly sound of his statement. He was serious in his threatening, she was sure of that. There was no mistaking the sincerity of his manner, his face was unreadable, set in a mask of un-etchable stone. Swallowing quickly Niera tried to gather her wits to prepare for either intense pain or for the brain-storming work of trying to create a plausible story to satisfy Achilles demands. Neither were options she leaned towards. Another moment passed, Achilles poised dangerously over a grimacing but defiant Niera. Words, thoughts, lies chased each other irritatingly through Niera's mind. She wasn't getting anything! With a shake of her head her eyes went back to Achilles.

"I... You don't.. I can't."

She blurted out lamely, the words stemming from frustration and pure incapacity to know what else to say. Her face creased with the problem of it all Niera tried to reason her words, she couldn't lie to this man without being found out, she very well couldn't tell him the truth, to remain silent was to invite who know what, and... Niera sighed, there really was no way out.

"You don't understand."

She finally spoke again, not knowing how desperate and almost pleading her words sounded. "I can't tell you. It's all wrong.. You can't..."

Running out of words to explain and wishing she could just close her eyes and be away from it all Niera gave up trying to speak. Achilles face was as stern as ever but a new sensation had crept into his eyes. Curiosity. What was it that held the girl so firmly in check, that kept her so guarded, even from his threats that many another person would have wilted under. Even so, he would have the truth from her, reluctance on her part or no.

"You will tell me everything _slave. _You would do well to remember that I am your master now, I say what happens to you."

The words were meant to be harsh and cutting, meant to bring the girl to her senses and speak. However, Achilles had not counted on them putting the girl's back of even more. With a flash of her eyes Niera drew herself up, her breath coming in quick spurts.

"Slave is it? Let me tell you something Achilles. I am no slave, I never have been and I never will be no matter what you or anyone else says. The minute I can I will get free of this place and happily watch others walk over your grave. Great Achaean warrior!"

Niera spat, her face tightened in intense anger.

"I'll not tell you anything, kill me if you like, you'll get _nothing_ from me!"

Niera was sure she didn't prefer death to talking but her overpowering wrath took control and as always Niera was run by her mouth. Fairly quivering with her emotion the more wiser part of Niera watched apprehensively for Achilles reaction. To her immediate surprise, and perhaps Achilles too, the warrior threw back his head, laughing. Working to keep her mouth from dropping open Niera wondered if the man had gone mad, apparently not as he regained his composure. Still smiling quirkily he faced Niera squarely.

"You are right. You were not born to be a slave, it is not in your blood. You come from high up wherever your country is."

Niera hid the urge to chuckle, high up indeed, middle-class family. Achilles smile faded as he regarded Niera steadily.

"I will find what I need to know small one."

He finally breathed out, his eyes boring her own. With an uncomfortable prickle Niera couldn't help but wonder how he meant to find out. Trying to act non-affected she tried relaxing her position as Achilles, still glancing at her, moved away, to his own pallet.


	15. 14 Troubled Thoughts

14 - Strange thoughts

Niera had been a captive in the Greek camp for two days. Most of that time was spent crouched up in her corner of Achilles tent brooding restlessly on some wild plan of escape which was never thoroughly worked out. Most likely due to the fact that the idea itself was proving to be very difficult to scheme. Well... Impossible might have been a better word. Pouring rivulets of sand from one hand to the other Niera was a picture of woe. Her dark curls were springing rebelliously around her head, forming a sort of halo, her face carried smudges of dirt here and there and large dark bruises were evident on her arms. Niera was just heaving a sigh while flopping disgustedly backwards when Achilles shadow darkened the sunlight from above her. Without opening her eyes Niera intoned dolefully,

"Come to hammer information out of me?"

Achilles glanced almost unbelievingly at Niera. How was it that everything that came from her mouth was so full of cunning and sharpness? Opening one eye lazily Niera examined the Greek warrior, trying to judge a reaction out of him.

"Why is it that you will not speak?"

Was the abrupt question in return. Achilles own ice-coloured eyes boring into Niera with intensity. Niera smiled slowly, her mouth upturning. With a start of surprise Achilles realised it was the first time he had seen her smile, her odd face curling sarcastically, it was no wonder at the words that came from her with that sort of smile, that mouth was made for wit. A low husky chuckle broke from Niera's throat as she answered,

"I'm speaking aren't I?"

Still laughing bitterly Niera turned her face away from Achilles. Inside seething. What was it that made her grow so full of wrath whenever she talked to this man! He was so bloody annoying! It didn't matter if he was being sincere or not. Niera shook her head quickly, better him annoying her than frightening her. As much as she hated to admit it he had done so terribly during his last confrontal on herself. He had seemed so.. cold, ruthless, like he would do anything to get what he wanted out of her. Niera held back a tremour as she willfully brought to bear her overpowering anger that so well sustained her. Achilles cocked his head interestedly, looking at Niera with observing eyes. She was so strange! He had never met someone like her before, she was almost unwomanly in her conduct, she had fought with unnatural familiarity when he had first witnessed her, and her retorts and speech were so bold and cutting that is astounded him. Achilles bowed his head after awhile, still trying to think how to get the girl to speak. He could go ahead with his first instinct, treating the girl like he would any other prisoner of war, getting what information he needed by force, but with Niera... The thought was repulsive to him as much as hardened himself. As a random thought struck him he asked suddenly,

"How old are you?"

Niera's neck stiffened with surprise. What had caused him to ask that? He was so unpredictable. Her face crinkling in a puzzled frown she looked back at him, answering, though she didn't even know why.

"Almost sixteen."

She replied slowly, wondering herself at how confused and fast time had become since her arrival in this alien world. Achilles nodded to himself, almost surprised that Niera had answered him. She was young though plenty old enough to be married and have a family of her own, in fact most girls were married by her age. Achilles absently wondered why Niera was not. But then... Who was she? That same question teased and tugged with ferocity in Achilles head. If Niera could indeed foretell she would be a valuable asset to the Achaean army, there was no questioning that, but even beyond on that now Achilles wondered about Niera herself. Who she was, where she had lived. Brushing back a sigh of frustration at his inability to find a way to make Niera talk Achilles stared restlessly. He had wanted to be joined in battle with the Trojans by now, waiting was worse than anything, however Agamemnon (who was commanding a large section of the assembled army) was convinced of the importance of sorcery on his side of the battle and had left to Achilles to get what he could out Niera. A motion from Niera caught his attention. Pushing herself up into a sitting position Niera suddenly asked what had been on her mind for the past day.

"Can I go outside?"

She hated herself for finally asking, it sounded so like a child asking his Mother but there was really no help for it. Niera hated being cooped up indoors, the last two days of being without open air had bothered her horridly driving her at last to ask Achilles. Achilles, looking surprised, considered before replying,

"No more than 100 paces away from this tent or my men will be after you and they need not be gentle when they catch you."

Niera breathed a sigh of relief even though she was irritated at the last bit of Achilles statement. Leaping up and pushing back the flap on the tent she welcomed the rays of sun that immersed themselves in her skin. The guards outside the tent and the men camped nearby regarded her with curious eyes, not altogether to Niera's liking. Pointedly ignoring them Niera stepped forward, towards the booming surf of the sea that was rolling up in rhythmic waves. Even in her current predicament Niera felt a rush of joy at just being outside and being free, for the moment. Drinking in the dusky salt smell Niera walked down along the surf, her ragged jeans and loose tunic getting soaked with the spray of the water which Niera almost welcomed, she was getting rather anxious about the condition of her dirty clothes. She did not notice Achilles who had followed her out of the tent and was now watching her with an odd expression. With a sudden laugh of delight and completely forgetting her surroundings, Niera flung her her body forward into the waves, diving outward into the deeper parts of the water. Niera loved water and loved to swim but to Achilles and his men the sight of a girl rushing forward into the water was a very outlandish one and with a start Achilles moved forward thinking to stop the girl from a watery death, however, he stopped his motion when he realised the girl was swimming as agile as a dolphin, diving in and out of the water, her wet hair flinging joyously about her shoulders. Watching her for yet another moment, his eyes suddenly soft, Achilles made a motion to his men to watch Niera and with a quick shake of his head turned away, walking restlessly. His thoughts troubled.

: Sorry for keeping you all waiting. To make up for it I've started the bonding between Achilles and Niera, well, at this point it's more Achilles falling for Niera.. but.. Anyway, you see what I mean. Give me some reviews! I'm getting lonely reading nothing about my hard work :


	16. 15 More surprises

: BIG ANNOUNCEMENT! From here on I will be writing this story with my new co-author KopyKitty whose first chapter is below. I will be keeping you up-to-date on whose chapters are whose. Enjoy and review:

Niera weaved in and out of the water, letting the salty sea pull itself through her hair. For several long minutes, she swam here and there, riding the waves and swimming underneath them. Achilles ad the men looked on in something slightly short of wonder. She was an unusual woman, no doubt. Finally, she let a wave push her backward, and she placed her bare feet in the wet, sandy bottom. She flattened her hair with her hands, smiling despite herself. She had wanted to do that for quite sometime. She was facing west, away from Achilles and she was just about to dive back in when she looked over her shoulder to see him waving her back. Another man, a herald no doubt, was standing next to him with a pair of horses. From pure curiously, Niera walked slowly back to the beach, stopping to brace herself against on coming waves occasionally.

"What's going on?" she asked Achilles, squinting her eyes with suspicion. Achilles glanced to his friend Odysseus, who smiled his legendary smile. Niera could not say it was a welcoming expression for her part. Earlier, while Niera was swimming, Odysseus came about and spoke onto Achilles of the arrival of a Trojan party. The two friends suggested to one another that they bring the girl. If none of the Greeks knew who she was, perhaps the Trojan's gift from the Gods would…

"Get on," said Achilles gruffly, mounting one of his intelligent horses.

"Going for a romantic ride on the beach are we?" asked Niera sarcastically. She put her foot in a stirrup, and was about to mount the other steed, when Odysseus put his hand on her shoulder.

"This is my mount." Niera pulled her foot away. Odysseus mounted and rode in a little circle, almost as if flexing his legs before a run, all though the horse would be doing any of that.

"Then where do I ride?" Achilles patted his horse's hindquarters. Niera took a second to comprehend, before she stepped back. "I'd much rather just walk than get on the same horse as you."

Achilles shrugged.

"Suit yourself. I bothers me not to have a wet teenager walking as opposed to riding with me." Niera sneered and walked along side the horses. Walking got hard, because her jeans were now heavy, and her wet shirt and hair clung to her skin. They passed several men, who looked at her in an unnerving stare. But they said and did nothing as Achilles' gaze washed over them. Eventually, the party of three made it to the meeting hall. Here they turned and made more inward to where some Greek leaders and Trojan leaders were meeting. The Achaeans were standing on foot, while the Trojans of horseback. They seemed very, regal and graceful up on their mounts, almost as if they and their horses had melted into one. If a rider was to so much as look back at the city, his horse might even take a few steps to make it easier for him. Their party was of four men, and a woman whose blue hood had fallen across her shoulders were rich brown locks tumbled. She was chatting silently with a muscular man, with thick brown curls and a short brown beard. A slightly younger man, with black curls and no beard was glaring at Menelaus from behind his father's shoulder. Priam, who the man must have been, was speaking with Agamemnon and Menelaus. The fourth man looked like something of a war general was conversing with Calchus. Most of them looked up when Achilles and Odysseus entered, but went back to their work. Something about that woman… girl seemed familiar to Niera. She squinted at her. She had a define jaw, with high-cheekbones and full-lips. Her gray eyes were bordered with thick, long lashes. Her hair was pulled back to keep hair from her eyes, yet two sprigs still fell in her eyes. The sun glanced off a golden headpiece of leaves. Suddenly it hit her hard.

"DIANA?" Everyone turned quickly in her direction, and Diana's eyes flashed on recognition. Niera could hardly believe it. Diana was her cousin, born two months before her, and they were related on their mothers' sides. Sure they had had rough times but she'd get her out. She pushed between Achilles' horses and clung to her cousin's leg.

"Diana, I can't believe you're here! I thought I was alone, the only one! You have to buy me, Diana! You must, they're keeping me as a slave and keep hounding me for information and I can't take another second of it!"

There was a pause as Niera saw Diana in a new image, her crown shining like that of a Christ-like figure. So much relief washed through Niera she could hardly stand it. It would all be all right now… but it was several seconds before Niera realized the look of hate Diana gave her. A sudden force pushed Niera away, strong like an ocean wave, but it was the mount of Hector. He and his horse pushed themselves between the cousins. His sword was drawn defensively, and Niera looked up at Diana with a look of fake innocence and curiosity.

"I'm sorry… have we met?" she asked.

There was a sickening silence. Though Diana's words sounded sincere to the men, nothing had ever sounded colder or harsher to Niera. For a moment, her heart had leapt from the ashes of misery and despair of hopeless… only to be thrown down hard of the ground as though being pulled by a rubber band.

"Niera… it's Niera! Diana!" Niera sputtered, and everyone looked in turn to Diana.

"Ah, Niera… tell me girl, who is your master?"

"I am." Said Achilles, pulling Niera to him by her shoulders, almost defensively.

"Achilles, correct?" he nodded. Paris glanced at his brother, and the others fell silent. "I suggest you keep an eye on her, Achaean warrior." She looked uncomfortable for a second. "Your _seer,_" she said, teasing the word to Agamemnon, who had evidently mentioned her, "has been a burden to the gods since they have created her. In the land from where I come…I did know her… for my time. But do not put faith in her predictions, dear enemy…" Diana's voice went dark, "For in all the time she has been, she has been known for her insane notions, vicious actions, and misleading, manipulating lies. Now, Father, if we are finished with your business, I wish to leave this place." Priam nodded and re-mounted his horse. Niera watched in disbelief as Diana started to laugh and chat with Paris. Hector gave Achilles a killer look and turned away. Niera stared in silent disbelief, as they rode away. Yet even if as they set off at a gallop, Diana made a sharp turn, rising dust in the air. She looked back and her horse rose in a 'High-ho-Silver' and blew Niera a sarcastic kiss. Then her horse turned more, slammed his hooves on the ground and rode off, raising more dust.

Anger mounted Niera in a flash and all she could do was yell as loud as she could:

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHH!"

Then she fell to her knees and felt very weak.

Achilles stood over her for a moment, watching Diana go. Despite himself, he believed Niera, and thought very lowly of Princess Diana. In any case, if the rumors were true, he'd meet her again in the heat of battle.

The guards opened the city gates and let in the Royals.

"So," said Hector, "where have you really met that girl?"

"What do you mean?" asked Diana, raising an eyebrow.

"Sister, do not try and act as though I do not know you better than any person on this side of Styx."

Diana smiled sadly. If only he knew.

"Okay, I admit it. She's my cousin. But Hector, I turned her freedom down and I would do it again because…" she paused slightly, watching a brown eagle fly over head. "… because she killed my elder brother."

Hector looked at her anxiously. She had only mentioned her late brother once or twice. And one time it had just been around when he first met her, six years ago…

"_Diana, what's the matter? Does this palace displease you?" asked Hector. The young lady who had appeared in Apollo's Sacred Garden was seated behind a pillar and hugging her knees. When she first arrived, she had at once requested paper, and pulled out from a pocket, three strange wooden sticks and a gray blob. She called them her 'pencils and eraser'. They were strange to the people, but with them, she could make her magic! Just like the legendary artists of Athens… she could draw images so realistic and accurate, it was like looking into a portal. Sometimes, she drew more silly, unrealistic creations. Sometimes she would draw the other royals, or the Gods and Goddesses, and her favorite characters to draw were Pegasus and Cerberus. And she could tell stories about them so confidently, no one had once doubted she had met them. And other times she would draw other people, whose pictures she would only show to Hector… and she would tell stories about them. When he asked her if she had met them, she smiled sadly and sad she always wished she could, but they lived and remained only inside her. Most of their stories were general though, and she could not tell too much about them. And sometimes she would show her old dogs and horse, whom she always missed. _

_Tears splattered the drawing of Poseidon and his winged horses, and the one of a cloaked, black haired youth with strange circles in front of his eyes, a lightning bolt shaped scar, and strange outfit. For before her was a halfway drawn image of a boy. His face was erased again, and again, and smeared and some lines were drawn over so many times in frustration it ripped through. _

"_I c-c-can't remember h-how h-he looks!" sobbed Diana, burying her face in her hands. "H-he's my b-b-brother Jake. He d-d-died, and I can't even r-remember his face enough to d-d-draw it!" _

_She had wailed for a straight hour, even after her eyes ran dry. Hector sat next to her the entire time, his hand on her shoulder. Slowly, she lifted a pencil and eraser and started to adjust the drawing. Finally, when she finished, she held it up and Hector saw a mirror image of himself. _

"I don't want to have her here," snarled Diana. She turned and faced Hector, smiling suddenly. "Now let's get our armor on. Priam isn't about to let his gift from Apollo sit out of battle. Besides, I need to beat some Achaeans!"

Hector laughed. She liked fighting, but he knew she didn't like killing.


	17. 16 Diana

The Following Chapter is written by AlibethBooks:

16 - Diana

Niera's body shook, with anger more than anything else. Her grey eyes were steel. Kneeling on the sand, her clothes damp and clinging, her hair wet and straggled, she looked a picture of despair. Achilles stood back several paces, watching the small group of Trojans ride off into the distance. Odysseus stood with him, as well as the others of their company. Niera had caught their attention drastically by her furious yell. It had been a yell of frustration, of hate and anger. Diana... Why didn't it surprise her. Out of anyone it had to be her. She was so stupid! So mindlessly blind. No, that wasn't being fair. Niera shook her head quickly. Diana had lost much, almost as much as she herself had. But in different ways and she had much to suspect. Niera felt like dying. They were kin still, even if they did have hate for each other. How could she!

"I'll get her!" Niera whispered. "If its the last thing I do, I'll get her for this." She stiffened automatically as a hand was placed on her shoulder. Looking up she found it was Achilles, his hard face regarding her silently. Niera ignored him, she wanted to be left alone. She felt like drowning in her grief. Refusing to listen to Achilles motion for her to get up, Niera kept her crumpled up position on the beach, her gaze following her hated cousin. Diana. The name left a bad taste in her mouth. Niera was still unusually unresponsive as Achilles, with a glance to Odysseus, lifted her, setting her prone figure atop his horse and jumping up after her. Despite himself Achilles felt a odd twinge of concern and deep interest. The two females had known each other, that was indeed certain. Their manner, the very way they had looked at each other confirmed that. Wondering quietly at from what land the two had met before, Achilles glanced down at Niera, slumped wearily against him, her eyes glazed over with hate, and something else. Sorrow? The thought struck Achilles as odd, sorrow did not seem to fit this girl. Anger, Bitterness, Bluntness, yes, but sorrow?

"I'll get her." Achilles head quickly jerked downwards, the words had sounded with such a force of intensity that even he was caught by them. "Why?" He asked softly, knowing full well of whom she was speaking of. Niera responded, not even knowing she did, "For this. Even she..." Niera's words ended abruptly, his eyes suddenly regaining their conscious look. They examined Achilles narrowly, as if blaming him for even having her answer. "That is between me and her." She finished quietly, straightening herself to support her own weight. Niera always recovered from things fast, she was never one to stay in a down position for long, her mind was too active and sharp for that. Already she was recuperating from her shock at seeing Diana, from her emotion at her cousins' denial of her. Her jaw not set in a grim line Niera suddenly realised she was atop Achilles' horse, him seated behind her. Scowling, she hadn't wanted to share the horse, Niera wondered what would happen if she tried to push the man off. As if reading her mind Achilles leaned forward slightly, his body brushing up against hers, his arms gripping the horse's lead firmly.

A lithe laugh issued from Odysseus who was riding next to them, atop a bay mare. "By the gods Achilles, what have you brought on yourself. Two god-marked? The trojan was no ordinary woman of birth, neither is this one." His weathered face grinning he glanced over at Niera who frowned decisively at him. "Nah, don't look so small one." He said with another deep chuckle. Niera felt like pushing the man's face in, this time for once not Achilles' face. Achilles smiled slowly, more at Niera's reaction to Odysseus than anything else. By the time they had reached his camp the smile had fled and with it Odysseus who had gone to his own lodgings. Niera personally would have liked to credit his disappearance to her frown. As Achilles' slid of the mare's back he lifted a hand to Niera who, disdaining the hand scornfully, jumped off herself landing painfully on her foot. She glanced quickly at Achilles, almost suspicious of him laughing at her. His set face was all she saw and finally satisfied that he dignity was not being imposed upon she reluctantly followed Achilles back into the tent that she was quite familiar with by now. Niera was settling herself on the cot of skins that was now hers when Achilles soft voice surprised her.

"Who was she?" He asked, knowing her answer. As he had suspected Niera, after staring hard at him for a moment shook her head stubbornly, refusing to speak. Achilles sighed inwardly, one way or another he would have to get what he could from the girl. Time was telling and he needed his information.


	18. 17 Action

16 - Action

_"I'll hate you for as long as I live, Niera. Remember that." _The words echoed hauntingly in Niera's mind. They were every bit as clear and as vivid as they day they had been said. Niera leaned forward, hugging her body to herself. Her nightmares were getting worse. Shivering, Niera closed her eyes. A few rays of noon sun broke through the entry-way of the tent, lending a small amount of light. Niera welcomed the warmth as slight as it was. Tonight was the night. The night when she would escape. Where after that? She hadn't the faintest clue, all that mattered at the present was quitting herself of her current situation. Her hand sliding down her pant leg to pat the concealed knife there, Niera smiled slowly, her grey eyes lighting up as her mouth curled in anticipation. The hours till darkness crept with agonizing slowness, seemingly taunting Niera at their pace. Niera, after memorizing Achilles habits as best she could, figured that she had at least thirty minutes in which she would be free to escape.

Free except for the guards and the soldiers camps beyond them. Niera brushed discouraging thoughts away, her mind prickling with more than just adrenaline. They would see what a stupid mistake it had been not to tie her. Once again Niera's mouth twisted into a feral smile. A small sliver of moon made it's way into the night sky. Niera's smile widened. Just enough moon to give her light to see by but not enough to betray her. With a deep breath Niera stood. It was time. Moving silently she withdrew the concealed knife from it's hiding place, two painstaking cuts in the thick material of the tent and Niera slipped out into the cool air, her eyes fairly glowing as silver glints of the moon caught them. Fighting the urge to laugh Niera, at the sound of a footstep nearby, flung herself to the ground. One of Achilles men. Bellying her way, inch by inch, Niera moved away from the sentinel.

After several moments of such movement Niera frowned. She would never escape at this pace. Rising slowly, her eyes everywhere at once, Niera ran, her small body throwing a slight shadow to the right of her. So far so good. She had cleared Achilles camp, there weren't as many guards as she had guessed. A sudden shadow, emerging from nowhere to the left stopped her dead. "You there." Came the gruff voice, "We need another at this dice game, were at odd numbers." With silent prayer of thanks Niera realized that guard didn't see her face, not yet anyway. With a friendly chuckle, making it sound as deep as she could, Niera approached the soldier, making sure to keep her face out of the moon's light. "I'm in then." She said reaching a hand out. As she stepped up to the man Niera's other hand came around from behind her back, the knife in it. "And so is this." She said quietly as she plunged the knife upwards, with a jolting vibration Niera felt her knife enter the man's throat, cutting off any capacity on his part to speak and in a few moments silencing him forever.

Niera watched gravely as the man sank to the ground, his eyes wide and staring, his mouth moving, gurgling noises issuing forth. With a small shake of her head Niera realized that this was the first man she'd ever killed. With a grimace she jerked her weapon out. "Your only crime was that you saw me." She said quietly, almost sadly. With a brisk shake of her head Niera cleared her thoughts. Time later to think of dead men. Time now to move. Picking up her pace and dodging the lights and sounds of camp-fires, Niera ran. It was almost an half an hour later when she broke free from the sight of Greek fires. Tilting her head upwards, still running, the cool night air whispering laughingly about her, Niera laughed with it. It had been much easier than she would have thought. Glancing smugly backwards, back towards the Greeks. Niera, with a sudden childish impulse, stuck out her tongue. Then, again laughing, she continued to run.

It was an hour later when Achilles threw back the flap to his tent, ducking his head to enter. Glancing around he paused. The tent was empty. Glancing at the slashed side of his tent Achilles shook his head slowly. He hadn't given her enough credit. He had never really thought she would attempt to escape. Now she had not only attempted but succeeded. Obviously. There were no reports of her capture. Achilles jaw hardened resolutely. Where had she gone though? He hadn't found out what he had wanted and that angered him. A shout outside his tent brought the first evidence of Niera's escape. Listening to the murmuring talk Achilles, his pace quickened, moved determinedly. It wasn't long before his strides brought him to the stiffening body of the soldier Niera had killed. Examining the body carefully, Achilles once again shook his head. He hadn't given her near enough credit. He had underestimated her badly.


	19. 18 The Immortal

18 - The Immortal

By : AlibethBooks

Achilles straigthened abruptly, his voice sounding harshly in the night air.

"Myrmiddons!" There was a silence as the gathered men looked up attentively. "Assemble!"

In an amazingly short amount of time the dark clad figures of his men were gathered, their faces watching their leader as a hound watches the master. In one grim motion Achilles swept his sword from it's sheath, the rasping sound of metal echoing in the silence. There was a long moment as Achilles examined his blade, his eyes flickering slowly over the clouded surface of bronze, he had spilt much blood with this weapon, it was always thirsty, as was he. Turning slowly, his eyes fastened on those of his men, regarding them carefully.

"We do not stop until until we find the girl. Even if it leads us to the very gates of Troy."

His tone was ringing, no man alive could have withstood the authority compacted into his voice. As one the mens heads dipped, acknowledging their lords command. Achiles moved then, his feet settling into a swift loping gait, his men close behind.

Niera's breath was coming in ragged gasps, she had been running for over half an hour. The Greek camp was far behind but what lay ahead? Troy's gates were closed to her, she had known that to begin with. Her only option was to get as far away from the Greeks as she could. After leaving the shoreline she had headed for a dense inclosure of woods several miles to the right. She had no idea how far the forest continued, or whether it was such a good plan to be entering them, it seemed her only choice at the moment.

Now she had gone at least a mile into them, the thick branches overhead obscuring the moon, her only source of light. Glancing around her Niera began to feel uncomfortable. Unfriendly shadows pushed and shoved near her, the tangled roots of trees reaching out to snag her barefeet. The dark woods seemed pressing, urgent, and very black. Niera shivered suddenly, the former welcome coolness of the air had now turned to a more severe cold, penatrating Niera's thin layer of clothing and soaking into her skin. She did not like these woods, she felt as though something sinister was creeping up on her.

She had never been afraid of the dark, in fact she rather preferred it to light, but this darkness was different. She couldn't help but wonder what sort of beasts these woods might shelter. She couldn't turn around, as much as she was beginning to feel like it, behind her lead only to being stuffed up in a tent for pointless days on end. Gritting her teeth, trying to avert her eyes from the looming shadows, Niera paused abruptly. A noise? Ahead of her? Her body tensing, she stepped cautiously forward. A sudden burst of overwhelming fear struck her, freezing her feet to the ground.

The blackness was growing rapidly thicker, small wisps of fog beginning to form. She could feel a prescence just as surely as if she could see someone. Then, as she watched, silent with shock and awe, the swirling mist drew alarmingly together, within seconds shaping itself into a luminsicent figure. It was a woman, or molded as such, it's body shimmered and swayed, the restless columms of mist that it was made of contracting weirdly.

"Who are you?" The question rasped unsteadily from Niera's dry throat, her eyes wide, was all the stress she'd gone through finally beginning to take it's toll on her? The silverly face turned in a smile, the broad cheekbones stretching. Niera watched in fascination as it opened it's mouth, a voice as silvery as it's colour issuing forth. "You would know me as a myth, as a story." It laughed then, the sound akin to water running over stones. "Which story?" Niera asked, almost curious despite the situation. The mist drew itself up, as if annoucing something grand.

"I am Athena, godess of wisdom. Am I not a story to you?" Niera swallowed audibly, beginning to feel as if she were dreaming once more. "There is no -" Athena cut her off abruptly. "In your time we are dead, we have died long ago. But... In this time..." The godess's voice trailed off slowly, her mouth smiling once more. "We are very much alive in this time." Niera fell back several steps, the hair on the back of her neck prickling. "Why?" She gasped unsteadily, her eyes pleading. "Why?" Once more laughing, the godess drew nearer, the mist swirling in dizzying patterns. "Because you were chosen."


	20. 19 The Chosen One

: This story 'Lost from the Dream World' is copyright to AlibethBooks. No stealing of any part of the script and/or dialogue

"You are the chosen one."

The words reverberated, sounding ominously through Niera's head. Trying to gain any semblance of control that was left to her she tried desperately to push her shock away, deal with what was before her. But how?...

The pale wisps of mist that formed the shape in front of her, swirled, as if impatient. Once again the silverly voice that sounded so ethereal spoke, a tinge of frustration coming through.

"You humans are so stubborn! You can't accept anything outside of your absurd views."

At the tone Niera's temper flared briefly, her usual bad timed emotions kicking into play.

"Oh, I'm so sorry I'm not immortal, that I can't just accept the very air around me turning into some goddess..." Taking a breath she opened her mouth to continue but the goddess interrupted her, peals of laughter rippling through the air.

"Your also very amusing." She commented, a languid smile forming. Niera's temper seethed, she was confused, hungry, and desperately tired. Feeling rather drained the girl looked up, her face almost pleading.

"Chosen one?"

Athena's smile widened and Niera could have hated her for the laughing tone she adopted.

"Of course. You don't think we come down visiting just every mortal now do you?" She laughed again, as if marveling at Niera's lack of understanding.

"Events are happening, large ones in the world of men. The gods of Olympus are impatient, we want something to start happening with this war, so we brought you and..." Here Athena paused as if warming up to her subject. "Your dear cousin, I'm sure you remember her."

Niera ground her teeth, "Oh yes, I noticed that." She commented almost sarcastically. Her ever ready tongue contorting with rage. "I happened to see her just a few days ago, all tight with the Trojans, thought she was something else she did. Didn't even stoop to recognize me, not that she would though." Bitterness was flowing through ever vein in her body.

Athena stopped her laughing to regard Niera with... curiosity? "I'll never understand humans." She declared after a moment, "Your so... emotional!"

"You can't expect me to thank you for bringing her here." Niera stated unbelievingly. "Do you know how it is between us, did you even think to dig up a little back history before pulling the both of us to some forsaken time in the past!" Her tone was now accusing, her hand were held stiffly at her sides, finger clutching repeatedly, as if wanting to find the goddess's ethereal throat. "No, you bloody well didn't!" Niera was yelling now, not even caring if anyone heard her. That anyone namely being Achilles, or any others that might be searching for her.

"My dear," Soothed the goddess, her voice attempting to be calming. "I told you, in your time we're dead, we don't exist, it's hard to look ahead into the future. Very hard, not to mention tiring." A petty note crept into Athena's voice before she continued, "So we just took what was available."

Niera's eyes narrowed, a suspicious look creeping over her face. "What do you mean 'available'."

Athena looked surprised, as if wondering why Niera asked such a question. "Certain humans are more inclined towards... Well, how would you say it. A few rare humans have a certain... aurora, one that attracts attention from the other world, spirits, minor beings, nymphs, wood folk, gods. It catches our attention, like a flower would a bee. I'd have thought you'd have known that." She commented, still looking surprised. "After all you are very... special." She smiled again.

Niera still looked suspicious. "What do you mean special?" She demanded, her tone none-too-gentle.

Athena's smile widened, she was almost beaming now. Drawing her misty form up to full height she moved over to Niera, towering over the short figure. "Stay still." She said quietly, one silverly hand reaching forward towards Niera.

Impulsively the girl backed up, moving away from the goddess. In a second the swirling vertigo of mist was upon her, the hand descending until it laid itself on Niera's head.

The second it touched her skin Niera felt a deep cold penetrating her, an overwhelming chill that felt as if it would drowned her. Her mouth opening in a soundless scream she fought the dense fog that surrounded her, that clouded her brain. She couldn't see, she couldn't feel, she was dead, she was...

With a sudden breath her vision cleared and feeling began to restore itself to her limbs. Athena stood back from her, several paces away, surveying her with an obvious look of satisfaction.

Niera looked up at her, horrified. "What did you do?"


	21. 20 Power

-20- by : Alibethbooks

Niera looked up at her, horrified. "What did you do?"

Athena's face was wreathed in an distinct look of satisfaction. "Awakened you, so to speak. Awakened a part of you that's always been there, just... How would you say it? Sleeping. Yes, that's right, sleeping."

Niera was hardly listening, something strange yet oddly familiar was tickling the back of her mind, an empty space was filled, filled with a presence that somehow she knew. It had energy, a life of it's own. Still gasping for breath she stared at the goddess. "What is it?" She stammered, her tone almost incoherent with shock. "What is that?" She demanded more firmly.

"What is it? Why my dear, that is... well, it's why your special. I'm trying to think of the word you mortals use. Ah, magic." Here Athena pulled a wry face, as if disgruntled. "Really, the entire term magic is very base and altogether laughable. Your power is born in you, many people do have it you know, but very few know it. You can't use your power until you know it of course." Athena laughed again. Delighting in Niera's vague look and increasing wonder. "Now..." She continued, as if sobering herself for business. "Put out your hand." Niera was to dazed to disobey her as she stretched out one hand, very aware of that thing in the corner of her mind. "You want light." Athena commanded, "The stone in front of you, you want it to glow, you want it to produce light."

Eyebrows pulled close in concentration Niera willed light into the small round stone in front of her, several moments passed by and sweat trickled down her face. Athena stopped her. "No, no. Not that way. Mere will doesn't work you see, use your power. Take hold of it and use it." With this new found piece of advice Niera confusedly grasped for that bit of her, feeling it's life pulsing she pushed it, nudged it hesitantly towards the rock. "Light now, light." Athena spoke coaxing. "With a final push Niera gasped as the rock suddenly glowed, dim but still a faint luminescent glow.

"There, I knew you could." Athena smiled winningly, "There are few things you can't do with your power. You'll always be discovering more of course but remember, there are limits. Stretch yourself to much and your power will backfire, many mortals have been killed that way." Athena shook her head, as if remembering past foolishness. "Now, I've done what I was sent for. Somehow I always get sent." Here the goddess's voice resumed it's pettiness. "The rest seem to think I've gifted in dealing with you humans, of course I am more subtle than say Posidien. His approach would be bursting in, waves crashing and whatnot." Athena trilled in amusement once more. "Remember your power, once awakened it can't fully sleep again. Remember it in need." As she spoke her voice grew fainter, as if she was fading, with a last swirl the mist withdrew leaving Niera in a dark glade with only the faint light of her stone to comfort her.

With a sob she threw herself to the ground, wishing desperately she was home in her bed. She laid there long, time passing by unnoticed, to engrossed in her own fear and strange feeling, her power would take some getting used to. She barely noticed a growing light to the east as her eyelids drooped, eventually closing in sleep.


	22. 21 The Hunt is on

-21-

The last embers of a burning fire collapsed, their glow slowly fading as the first pink rays of the rising sun crept over the eastern horizon.

Agamemnon shifted his gaze from where he had been staring sightlessly, his thoughts preoccupied and troubled. A noise had attracted his attention, from the gray fog that thinly surrounded the camp a tall shape strode.

A nod of greeting was all that was needed between the two as the newly arrived man seated himself opposite of the King.

"Ajax."

"High Lord, I have some news. The eastern part of the camp is astir. Some trouble with Achilles and his men, apparently the slave escaped."

A slow smile grew on the older man's face as he listened to the rugged warriors words.

"Escaped hmm?" He noted softly, his tone musing. He did not like this girl that Achilles had drudged up from nowhere. He did not like to be dependent on another for direction and counsel. Agamemnon made his own decisions. As far as he was concerned this was some new path of Achilles to usurp his leadership. The girl had escaped though... This was news, no doubt the warrior would be eager to retain his precious slave. Thoughts formulating quickly the Achean King, forgetting the presence of the man next to him, summoned his guard.

"Assemble some score of men, lightly armed. Quickly!"

Ajax watched his leader carefully, trying to grasp at his purpose.

"My lord?" He questioned after a moment of such silence.

"Achilles will want his slave back, he needs her... Seeress indeed! So then... I will find his slave for him, perhaps before him. Then by all rights she is mine, I can do what I will." Agamemnon paused, his girth shaking in a pleased chuckle.

"Achilles will by no means by pleased." Warned Ajax cautiously, firmly caught on to what the King was purposing.

"Achilles will have no other option but to abide by what the fates have planned." Snapped Agamemnon, his good mood fading somewhat.

Several miles away a small figure pulled herself from the ground. Feeling a dull ache in the pit of her stomach, an ache that grew as she moved. She was lost, she had realised that almost the moment she had woken. In last night's panic she had not marked from what direction she'd entered the forest, she didn't know which way to turn. Taking her chances as it moving was preferred to standing she trotted off northwards, hoping by pure luck that she was moving away from the Greek Camp.

The baying of hounds filled Achilles ears as he paused, his eyes narrowing on a crushed trail of undergrowth that was the beginning of the forest ahead of him. Surely she had entered here, he was gaining. Adreline pushing him on he raced forward, his men silent as wraiths behind him. There would be but one end to this night's hunt.


	23. 22 Your Power!

-22-

As cold rain made it's way through the canopy of limbs overhead a small figure stumbled, catching itself just before falling. A heavy fog moved over the earth reminding Niera all to clearly of her recent experience. Not as though she could forget, not with that... thing in the back of her mind. It was perhaps midday and Niera had been moving for the past eight hours, she had now reached the last limits of her endurance and no longer even cared if anyone found her. She was beyond even caring what had happened to her. Her body was numb with exhaustion the only feeling that made any impact on her was hunger which gnawed unceasingly at her stomach. Dragging herself under the gnarled roots of a large tree she collapsed, passing out of this world for the time being.

Meanwhile a small group of men ran easily through the thick trees, their armour laid aside for better time. If Niera had known how close they were to her she might have found a last reserve to attempt to hide herself but oblivious to the waking realm she slept, her body curled up to keep as much warmth as she could, raindrops splattered persistently creating a soothing tempo.

A stag, walking placidly through the forest, eating here and there spotted the human figure with vague interest. Moving closer it sniffed Niera's body, then it's ears moved forward, it's head lifting and with a sudden flick of it's tail it dashed off through the undergrowth. Several minutes later the cause for the stag's behavior made their appearance.

Niera's first conscious feeling was the strange presence in her head, the thought of it brought all other memories clearly to mind. And sitting up groggily she opened her eyes. What she saw was nothing that pleased her.

It was nearly six hours later when... face tightened with fear, Niera watched as several priests were ushered out of the dwelling before her. Niera blinked as daylight penetrated, her eyes already darting about for inspiration. She had woken from her sleep to find herself once again captive, with a slight change. Agamemnon had switched ownership with Achilles. The warrior was still gone, hunting her. She didn't know what was happening but it was best to find some alternative than what was chosen for her. The small company of fellow captive priests were being herded along through the camps before her, a guard pushing her along. Only then, walking through the countless camps did Niera begin to understand how many people 'thousands' were. Despite the size of the shelters Niera noticed a significant lack of activity, where were all the soldiers? A few minutes more brisk walking quickly answered her, a great throng was gathered down at the shoreline where a huge fire had been erected, it's flames reaching eagerly for the sky. Niera shivered without knowing why, something felt wrong, more wrong than just being prisoners.

None of the priests were showing any concern, or for that matter any emotion. The conscious ones acted half trance-like. Not able to take the suspense any longer Niera plucked the elbow of a prisoner beside her, "Where are we going?" She asked urgently, keeping her voice low. The man looked quietly at her before shaking his head, as if pronouncing woe. All to soon they reached the fire, where a lone shape stood out from the rest, a long curved knife held firmly in one hand. Niera quickly recognised, with a flash of hate, Agamemnon. With a burst of understanding Niera turned, trying to run through the gap in the line. The nearest soldier caught her quickly, dragging her along with the others.

Blinded with her need to get away, she struggled uselessly, wasting her energy in kicking and pulling. Later she cursed her panicked fighting, but what we may plan at one time seems to desert us in the moment of action. Her movement almost frozen in horrid fascination Niera watched as dagger bearing man lifted his hands, as if in invocation, and began to speak. With sudden surprise Niera realised she couldn't understand him. So far in all her dealings with this past she had understood various tongues fluently, why not this one? She didn't have much time or motive to consider the question for long as the first priests in line were hauled roughly forward, they put up no protest and let themselves be taken towards the menacing figure, now chanting fervently.

Watching in stricken fascination Niera couldn't bring herself to look away as the Agamemnon, his dagger held firmly with one hand pulled back the neck of his first victim, with a twisting slash he cut the man's throat watching in silence along with the rest of the assembly as the former priest gave a decrepit gurgle, his life substance pouring from him. Niera could make no noise and was envisioning herself in the place of that priest. By the time the bodies had grown, lying there in a heap before the sacrificing leader, Niera had pulled together what wits she could and was casting about for an escape route, as unlikely as the possibility could be she couldn't give up until every last option had been exhausted. The whole while the soldier near her had kept a firm grasp on her bound wrists, just when she was seriously considering knocking herself out she was shoved forward, toward the thirsty and bloodstained dagger. Waiting for that cold steel to meet her flesh Niera involuntarily closed her eyes, hating herself while she did so. As she did so a voice cut through her mind, softly but with clarity that couldn't be missed.

"Your Power!"

Opening her eyes Niera caught the flash of the blade coming towards her, her hands bound behind and her body held stiffly by her guard she couldn't move. Not physically. Forgetting everything but those words that still pounded through her head she seized ahold of her power, all tentativeness she'd had before vanished. Filled with that pulsing energy and almost not knowing what she was doing Niera sent a wave of force towards Agamemnon. Like a shock tremour Agamemnon and anyone else within a twenty foot radius was knocked backwards. Struggling to their feet eyes wide and staring they saw what Niera herself could not. A pale blue glow immolated from her body, lingering here and there in indistinct flashes. Taken up by the feeling of power and strength Niera snapped the ropes that tied her hands. With a sudden draining feeling she slumped, so tired she could barely hold herself up she stumbled before falling. What had happened? Gazing vaguely out of blurred eyes Niera saw Agamemnon point, his voice high with fear and rage.

"Seize her!"


	24. 23 The Consequences

-23-

Blurry eyed Niera watched with languid carelessness as she was placed within a tented area, a thick chain on each wrist. Since her recent exploit she hadn't noticed much, images played through her head repeating themselves endlessly. Somehow what she'd done she'd done before. Terryfing memories haunted her, memories she'd thought she'd buried long ago. She was to caught up in her dreams to pay attention to the real world around her. After all, what was real anymore? Her whole exitence had faded into a series of hazed thoughts, nothing seemed to matter. So sunk in her self-empathy and lacking the will to admit that she'd given up Niera didn't notice when a bent shape entered her prison, it was only when he said her name that she looked up her eyes wide and out of focus.

"Child."

A flicker of recognition passed through the girl's face as she watched the old man, the man who'd started all these strange troubles by proclaiming her a seer.

"Calchus."

She murmured softly, her face hardening as interest began to grow in her. "What do you want?" She asked, her tone louder and more demanding. The old one looked at her for a long time, his rhuemy eyes sharp and conflicting. Finally she answered her.

"Why child? The gods alone know, it may be that they have had their hand in this affair as well."

Niera's glance was confused, she wasn't sure what the man was talking about. She stiffened at the word 'gods' she'd had about enough interference from them.

"The gods have done enough."

She answered grimly. Her hand clutching involuntarily. But deep within, though she might blame Athena's work, she knew that what'd she done, what she'd used, she had used before. The feeling that was now growing even as she spoke was merely awakened, it had always been there. She was beginning to understand Athena's words better now that time had passed, now that she could feel so much more. Glancing sharply once again at Calchus she spoke again, her tone cutting.

"Why are you here?"

As soon as she asked the question she felt something wrong, something stirred, a mood she didn't like. Niera had had bad feelings all her life, most of the time her insticts proved true. Whether about a death in the family or a bad storm, through long years of experience she'd learned to trust herself. This was one of those times. Pulling herself up from her crouched position she repeated her question. Her eyes piercing the old mans.

"The leaders would question you."

Calchus answered gently, his lined face bore an expression Niera couldn't read. Maybe regret, maybe... anger? But not towards her. Turning as quickly as his aged body would the man walked slowly away, while Niera jumped to her feet, straining against the length of her chain. It was then that a small escort of guards entered, their eyes wary as they cautiously approached her. The entire greek army had witnessed her power, once was enough for them. Niera couldn't have used her power if she'd wanted to, not with the weakness that still prevailed in her body as well as mind. She still wondered at the exhaustion that plagued her. She gave no resistance as she was chained against the wood wall of her prison, her arms stretched high over her head. Gazing with strange calmness around her Niera was surprised to see Agamemnon enter, a small dark man following him. She knew she didn't like the look on his face as he entered, the expression was to pleased. Too... expecting.

Achilles strode through the greek encampment, his eyes set hard. He'd heard the wild stories that now circulated uncontrolled around the camp. He also knew where he was heading towards. Just then he stopped in mid-pace, several of his men behind him pausing as well. A high pitched howl rent the air, it's ragged yell cut off abruptly before it came again, rising eerily into the darkening sky. Men nearby shivered, shaking heads as they pulled their cloaks tighter around them. Achilles doubled his pace, nearly running as he pushed past the guards in front of the tent. What met his eyes made him burn with sudden fury. Niera was bound against the wall, as a red hot iron was pressed against the flesh of her forearm. Her mouth worked silently, no longer able to produce the screams that had frightened the soldiers. Achilles saw a dazed look in her eyes as her body relaxed, her mind seeking oblivion rather than facing the pain that haunted it in this world. Anger ran like red blood through Achilles veins as he stood there on the threshold, Agamemnon and several of his men staring with mouths open.

"So this is your way of questioning High King."

He stated, his voice calm and low. Raising his head from where he'd fixed his gaze he drew his sword. Watching in quiet contemplation as the men shrunk back from him, their faces filled with newfound fear.

"Yes, it is fear High King. You recognise it."

Achilles murmured softly, his eyes never leaving his prey.

"Run now... Hide from me."

His voice rose with intensity, and it could have been laughable at the pace Agamemnon dashed from the tent. Fear still beating hard at his heels. Sheathing his sword Achilles stepped forward, his face immovable as he lifted Niera from the wall. Raw burned flesh still sizzled on her arms as he gritted his teeth, carrying her away. It was a full day before Niera opened her eyes again, and even then she was not lucid. In her dreams she was stalked by those memories, blood covered she ran only to go in circles. Lost in a world she couldn't understand. Achilles watched day after day as she struggled against unseen foes, crying foreign names that made little sense. On the third day Niera jolted to life with a yell. Tears streamed unhindered down her face as she cried names in repetition. Immediately Achilles was there, almost without knowing it comforting her.

"Why them?" She pleaded, still sobbing. "Why not me." It took several minutes before she looked around her. Recognising Achilles and remembering. It was always the hard part, remembering. Pain went along with remembering.


	25. 24 Horrors

-24-

Mist rolled in from the water, it's great gray blanket obscuring sight and entrapping sound. Niera shivered and it wasn't from the chill of the dawn, mist would never be the same for her. It would always hold... memories. Her eyes averting from the view outside Niera's gaze fell unto her arms. They would never look the same, angry red welts were already forming. By the time the wounds were finished healing they would be fearsome scars. Ever reminders of what had happened. Mercifully Niera's mind had blotted out much of what had happened that night. All that remained to her were dreams and flashes of memory. They were more than enough. The sounds of the army moving began to intensify as small black figures ran here and there, armour and weapons being handed out, men gathering at the morning meal, perhaps their last meal. Today Greek's Army marched, the majority of the leaders had finally been prevailed upon to fight, for why else had they come but to fight.

Niera had never been one to stomach debating or politics, she was straight-forward and liked to get to the point. She'd been around Achilles enough to know that a large part of the leader's time was spent arguing among one another. Thinking of Achilles Niera face closed in a puzzled look. She didn't know what to make of the man. Her first impression, which she usually stuck by, seemed to have gone astray. Achilles, since finding her, had been demonstrating an odd behavior of tolerance for her. Niera hated herself for allowing the man to see her cry and not just once, but several times when she'd woken with tears streaming down her face. At first Achilles had supposed her nightmares from that night with Agamemnon and his methods of questioning but later, listening to her mutter he gradually came to see that it was something else that troubled her so. Perhaps the reason for that shadow that always seemed to haunt the girl. He didn't know and he didn't question, the time was not right for that, if it ever would be.

Almost unconsciously Niera drew on her power, using it to touch the unlit lamp swinging above her head. Within bare seconds a pale flame flickered, it's orange tongues edged by an odd blue. Wherever she walked now men made the sign against evil, their eyes hastily averting. Niera was puzzled at first until Achilles had mentioned the reason for their behavior. "Over 30,000 men saw what you did that day." He'd told her and Niera had laughed, the first time in days. But her laughter was tinged with bitterness. It seemed to her that wherever she went, whatever time she lived in people thought her strange, avoiding her, not meeting her eye. The reasons weren't that different either, not at all. Closing her eyes Niera once again saw the flames, licking high into a frosty night, screams echoing and reechoing.

"It is never good to dwell on old evils."

Niera's eyes opened at Achilles voice.

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

She asked quietly, not really caring for the answer.

"I saw your face, the look. I've seen it many times. Men before their first battle, seeing death and knowing it for the first time."

Niera shrugged, to self-absorbed to be interested in any others woes. Achilles watching her was suddenly angered by her empathy, her carelessness. Did she think she was the only one to suffer on this earth? His voice sharpening he added.

"You child! You care nothing for others, you sit there and think of all that you've endured. You who haven't even faced the horrors of war. The blood, the stench, the overwhelming guilt that follows your first kill. You, a woman, know nothing of real pain!"

Niera's head swung to meet his angry gaze. Her face was expressionless as she answered softly...

"Real pain... Real pain?"

She paused, trying to gather her emotions that threatened to engulf her. Cold rage burned inside her.

"Let me show you what real pain is, Achilles."

Eyes suddenly glinting with a feverish light Niera leaned forward, reaching with her hands to place them on Achilles head.

"Oh yes, let me show you."

Like an unleashed wave she let forth her power, blue light wrapping the two figures in it's embrace. Through the blue a sudden picture was forming, growing larger and large until it surrounded them. It was night, a cold night, heavy snow blanketed the ground and Achilles watched as the familiar figure of Niera, looking somehow younger, walked along a path, dark trees forming a canopy overhead. Black smoke rose into the sky from somewhere ahead and Achilles watched as Niera's step quickened, her face tightening with sudden concern. Several more feet and loud reports could be heard, almost as if Zeus himself had let loose a thunderbolt. The girl broke out into a clearing, and sudden heat waves made their way across the ground. There in front of Niera stood an immense structure, a house? It was almost unrecognizable by the searing flames that tore it apart. Blackened and charred the roof was caving in but it was not on the house that the girls' eyes were directed. Not forty feet from her were the dark shapes of people, several figures were slumped to the ground in a position by which Achilles already knew them to be dead. He watched as a man drew a knife plunging it into the body of a resisting woman, her face somehow familiar. A scream sounded then, a hoarse yell that tore through the air with such life of it's own that Achilles shrank from it. It was Niera. And then just as suddenly the men killing began to writhe, their bodies jerking in an uncontrolled fit, their faces twisted into looks of agonized pain. It was then that Achilles looked back to Niera. She was standing, feet apart, her hands upraised as a blow glow surrounded her. She was killing them he realized, slowly, painfully.

The picture was shrinking, fading, until with a jolt Achilles was back, back on the shoreline, the murmur of the ocean in his ears. Niera was sitting across from him, as if she'd never moved, her breath coming in shuddering gasps. Tears were trickling slowly down her face.

"It was my family."

She whispered, her voice hoarse with grief.

"They killed them all, butchered them, their limbs were torn from their bodies. Even the youngest, she was four. And so I killed them, gave them deaths far worse than what they'd given to my family. And for that... For paying them back for what'd they done I was punished. The rest of my family hated me, I was charged for their murder, for the murder of those men. My relatives, they knew something was wrong with me. They avoided me, they were afraid of me and hated me because I made them feel the way they did."

Niera drew another breath, lost in her recollation.

"I was angry, I gave them nightmares, I tortured their every thought. I think in the end they knew what I was doing. Several went mad, they had to be sent to an asylum. I wasn't sorry though."

Niera glanced at Achilles.

"Do I not know real pain?"


	26. 25 Battle

-25-

"Do I not know real pain?"

The question echoed, hauntingly. Niera's words had never left Achilles, not then, not now as he braced himself against the ruts and bumps that jolted his chariot. He glanced over at Halcalmion, his driver. The words had sounded so clear he'd been almost sure that they were spoken.

Achilles frowned, he was headed into battle and other thought besides of killing and strategy were not good. Such a thing could earn him a head shorter. Yet still, even at his own reprimand his mind remained centered on Niera. On that strange girl whom he knew so little of. After revealing what had happened to her family, Niera had withdrew into her own stony silence. Ashamed with herself of even speaking of which she'd sworn she'd tell no-one. Achilles was the first person she'd ever told, and even then she hadn't really told him, she'd showed him.

Niera sat by herself, the distant noises of horses and chariots fading. She didn't know what she'd done when she'd showed Achilles her memory, only that she had. She didn't know half the things she could do with her power. She'd reached forward as she had out of impulse more than anything else. There had to be a way to harness her power in a controlled manner so she could use it as she willed and not when it came.

Silently Niera cursed Athena. The goddess had been as much help as... as... Niera worked her fingers through her hair, her headache only increasing. Since working with her power she'd had more of them, headaches. She never used to. She'd also been much more tired, needing sleep after only a few hours. Her muscles ached and stiffened. Niera didn't think she liked the Eastern climate.

Their were few noises around the camp now, just a handful of men and soldiers remained. Niera shook her head wanting to forget the reason why. The Greeks marched to battle today. A battle all of them had been waiting tensely for. Niera had seen the look of anticipation on Achilles face as he talked of the war. What was it about it that was so appealing? Niera, for the life of her, couldn't figure out. She had killed before, and enjoyed it, she knew that triumphant feeling even though a part of her whispered it's disgust.

But her killing was different. It had only been enjoyable because the blood that she spilled washed away the guilt, the feeling of failure that haunted her over her family's death. By killing the murderers she felt she settled the wrong. Her family would never come back, she knew that, but their death had been assuaged, at least a little. She didn't understand what killing one complete stranger after another did. Why that was a thing to be relished. With a quiet groan she lay back. Drowning her fears, and thoughts in sleep.

Armour glinted like silver in the sun and the reflection threw a glare into any onlooker's eyes. Like a great tidal wave the two opposing armies drew their men into ranks, causing lines to be formed. Phalanxes were at the foremost front, followed by the Chariots. In each chariot there were three men, an archer, a driver and a spearman. It would have been a glorious scene to witness if not for the carnage that followed the brief time where the armies gathered themselves in readiness. Horns sounded here and there, officers shouting at their divisions and overhead the harsh sound of great birds of prey waiting to be supplied with food.

Achilles gripped his spear tighter, his eyes casting over the men around him. Nervous, yet excited, few eyes were fearful. They would not know fear until they saw the point of the sword plunging into them, felt the life's blood pouring out, their vision darken and their limbs give way. Yet even did they know what fate awaited they would go forward, it was such courage, or folly as some would call it, that drove them on. They gave themselves hoping to make a difference for lives yet unborn. With sudden swiftness silence overcame the space between armies and the men stilled. A low horn sounded, its noise reverberating. The Phalanxes pulled up sharp. It was time to die.

The Trojan army had it's own separate group of archers, not mounted on chariots, and with a barked command they ran to the front in the gap between ranks. At another order strung their bows, fitting arrows and with a quick motion loosed them into the air as one. The silence was broken as yells and screams began to break out among the Greeks. Arrows arced overhead then plunged downwards, eagerly seeking flesh. The Greeks were on the defensive, shields raised overhead in an attempt to ward off the missiles. There was a pause in the black shower and the Greek Phalanxes marched forward, their shields forming a solid wall of bronze.

Achilles watched the intently. Awaiting the time when the chariots would sweep forward, their spiked wheels crushing Trojan bodies and casting chaos over the enemy. The Trojan Archers withdrew, still shooting even as they did so, and their Phalanx moved forward to meet that of the Greeks. Achilles watched closely, waiting. With a sudden crescendo of noise the two Phalanxes collided, metal meeting metal and ripping through flesh and bone to break it's way through the other. Another yell sounded and throwing back his own head in a cry of his own Achilles urged the horses forward, his chariot pulling out to the front listening to the thud of hooves behind him as his men followed. Dust rose in his wake and some spoke that it was Ares himself that whipped his horses forward, ignoring the driver and taking the reins for himself. Death smiled slowly, he would feed well this day.


	27. 26 Flashback

-26-

-----------------------

They looked at her, they stared and would not look away. They invaded her, those eyes, they witnessed what they should not.

Niera shuddered. She knelt in the soft snow, her arms cradling the stiffening body of her youngest sister. Her throat had been cut, brutally slashed so that her life had poured away, slowly, bit by bit.

Somehow, at some point in time she didn't know whether it was hours or years later, there were shapes around her, vague forms that moved and talked. She did not really become aware of them until they disturbed her, trying to take the body from her.

She fought then, fierce and savage. Something happened and she was lost into the dark.

She was not truly lucid until at least a week after, she remembered little of what passed during that time. She remembered white, alot of white, voices hard and insistent.

Her first sane moment was when she was finally visited upon by her family, not her true family of course but the ties that blood always enforced, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, that sort of thing.

Sitting there, propped up against the backboard of her bed Niera watched with quiet certainty. She knew why they were here, she knew that they knew she knew. Seeing their hesitant faces Niera closed her eyes briefly. She had never had much contact with other relations, they hadn't been important but right now she remembered the names of the two that stood before her.

Derek and Livia Richard.

They were distant family on her Father's side, the Father that had left them several years back. The Richards were the most prominent of the related family's. The chiefs of the clan. And Niera guessed that they would be making a decision about her.

As much as she hated it there was no-one to turn to on her Mother's side. Mum had been adopted and had no idea who her true parents were. She was far to young legally to care for herself, even though she herself debated the point inwardly. And she would have died rather than be sent to some children's home.

"Hello Niera, darling." Came her Aunt's quavery voice that she so hated. Something in the tone though made her look closer at their faces. They were bleach white she realised, and then with shock it came over her the reason. They were afraid! And what's more, of her. She could have laughed at the moment if everything had not felt so wrong, so out of place. Instead she returned their stares, her eyes peering blankly at them. She made no attempt to answer Livia. Her Uncle then tried.

"We've come to tell you, you'll be coming in with us until we've decided what to do with you."

Niera let out one bitter smile. Those last words were enough and with great pleasure she let forth something, some rage inside her. She let it tickle their minds, teasing, taunting. She watched them flinch, aware that something was happening. Then, as suddenly as it had started, she let it stop. There would be time later, much time.

--------------------

"They're burning the ships!" The hoarse cry came through a foggy haze as Niera jerked clumsily to her feet.

The ships? Asked a part of her mind, the part that was still back in the past, remembering with vivid intensity what had to have been the worst year in her life.

"The ships, the ships!" The cry had been taken up by others and faraway noises of metal clashing and choked off screams rent the air. The battle was nearing, the Trojans must be pushing the army back. Burning the ships though? Ships were the only way back for the Greeks, losing them would be akin to losing half the army.

Exiting her enclosure she noticed her guard was gone, apparently to help with the orange tongues of flame that licked eagerly at several ships far down the shore-line. With a gasp Niera spotted a group of dark-clad figures, not warriors, they were huddled in a knot and torches were in their hands.

This was how the ships were being burned. Using the distraction of the battle the Trojans were sending down men. Niera couldn't help but smile slightly, it was a good plan. Well thought out. But still, it would see her no good if the Greeks were put in foul tempers. She had scars to prove that. With an angry shake of her head she ran, hating the sand for how it slowed her. Reaching the nearest ship, the one boarded, she grasped hold of a hanging rope, the ladder was gone, and pulling herself upwards swung herself over the side.

Immediately she realised that had been a mistake. Facing her were three men and if their faces weren't hostile Niera wouldn't have known what to call them. As the first dodged for her she leapt sideways, unwittingly crashing into stacked barrels that fell painfully onto her.

Cursing Niera realised she was losing strength fast, she'd overestimated herself in this case. Healing from burns was a long and slow process and now her skin burned and throbbed with life of it's own. Angry now, whereas before she'd merely been performing a duty, she snarled deep in her throat. One of the men, narrowly missing a rolling barrel jumped to the back of her, penning her in. With an almost smug smile Niera reached for her power... and drew back with shock. It wasn't there. The empty space it left felt overwhelming. Niera flung back her head calling upwards, "Curse you Athena!" Perhaps it was her fury working but it seemed to her that she heard a voice, a light one, laughing softly.

With a yell Niera swung in a reverse power-kick to her nearest attacker. Her heel landed squarely in his stomach sending him flying backwards to bash his head on the wood of the ship. The remaining two were slower now, more wary. Niera didn't like that. It was much easier to take on someone that rushed in blindly, quite another with one who thought. As a shadow loomed up behind her, Niera vainly trying to turn, it struck her that they're had been more than three that had boarded the ship. At the same time she was lost to that ever increasingly familiar blackness. Really, this was getting old. She thought vaguely as she fell.


	28. Chapter 28

Coming out of the haze of darkness was like swimming up from a dark pond with a final gasp of air she broke surface and with an aching head opened her eyes.

It was just another day, the digital numbers on her alarm clock blinked rapidly. 6:30. Time to get up. Groaning she twisted in her blankets, finally rolling with a thump off the bed. Putting her arms down to push herself up she gasped, this time audibly. Over both arms ran ugly thick scars, red and purple, angry with their violence and the way they disrupted her skin pattern.

Shaking with terror Niera stood up slowly and was struck by thoughts, memories so violently that she found herself on the floor again. War... War... Troy. Then above all... ACHILLES.

Shaking her head, numb with shock Niera tried to sort things out. But there could be no sorting out the wild torrent of images that invaded her mind, pounding at her skull to be released, to be acknowledged. Shivering with fear she briefly relived her night, the night that had lasted two years.

Still shaking she turned and climbed back into bed, immediately with a swirling of colours she saw something, not saw, she lived something. She was in a great field, but the colours around her were tinted as if a dark shadow had been thrown over it. A large river was running slowly through the field, perhaps half a mile in width, and a large ferry was being poled slowly across. A familiar form stood besides that of a crooked one and one word entered Niera's mind. Achilles. Without thought, without any intention of doing so she waved and saw that he saw her.

There would be more. More dreams.


End file.
